The Hero of Magic
by kadoshi
Summary: After hundreds of years of peace, Ferelden is thrown into chaos with the impending blight. Darkspawn are beginning to move freely on the surface, and it is up to the fabled Grey Wardens to stop it. Veira Surana, a mage apprentice of the Circle Tower, is thrown into the fate of the Wardens after helping her friend Jowan. Pairings [SuranaxZevran]
1. The Harrowing

[Author's note: Quite a bit of the dialog is a part of the gameplay in DA:O, some of it has been paraphrased. Dialog and story Bioware]

Veira drew a shaky breath as she ascended the long staircase of the Circle Tower, willing her heartbeat to slow down. She was very nervous, and rightfully so. Today she would face the final test as an apprentice, the Harrowing. She had no idea what it entailed, but she knew that it was dangerous. Many times she had seen her fellow apprentices take their Harrowing, only to never return. Although she was a talented mage herself, she did not allow that to overshadow the possibility of failure. She knew that she could very well be another apprentice that disappears forever, if she was too confident.

She stopped in front of the door of the Harrowing chamber, the final level of the Circle Tower. She closed her eyes to ready herself. She did not pray to the Maker; instead she opened her eyes, filled with determination, and whispered 'I can do this' quietly to herself. The Templar who had...accompanied her kept his distance, but she felt his stare bore through her skull as he waited. The Templar said nothing, though she could sense that he was nervous as well. They were always nervous when it came to mages. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned the doorknob and entered the Harrowing Chamber.

A few Templars stood dutifully and grim, eyeing her as she walked through. She tried her best to ignore them, used to their constant stares. First Enchanter Irving, her mentor and dear friend, was there as well of course, a feint smile forming on his lips as she entered. Knight-Commander Gregoir, leader of the Templars in the Circle, was present as well, and behind him was Cullen, probably the kindest Templar Veira had ever met. When their eyes found each other, Cullen quickly looked away nervously.

"Magic exists to serve man," Knight-Commander Gregoir began, "never to rule over him. Thus spoke the Prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages that brought the world to the edge of ruin."

Veira's throat clenched slightly, knowing that speech word for word. She had heard it every single day since she had been taken to the Circle at the age of seven, thirteen long years ago. It was not that she disagreed with it, her studies into the Tevinter Imperium were utterly horrific, but those words were so ingrained into the lives of Thedas that it took away much of a mage's life, in ways that most people could not truly understand.

The Knight-Commander continued. "Your magic is a gift, but it is also a curse. For demons of the dream realm, the Fade, are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world."

She nodded slightly. She could not deny that fact.

First Enchanter Irving finally spoke. He was a very old man, but he was like a father to her. It surprised her greatly when he picked her out of all the mages to teach, back when she was still a small child, and there were plenty of other mages that would have been just as rewarding to mentor as her. But because of this she was eternally grateful to him, and his support meant the world to her.

"This is why the Harrowing exists," he said in is usual calm, hoarse voice, "the ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."

Her eyes widened, and her blood turned to ice at that. They were going to force her to confront a demon? At the behest of the Templars? That was the opposite of what the Templars stood for. She looked at Irving's kind face, worry etched into her features. As terrifying as it was, it made sense. Mages must be strong enough to defeat demons, to not give in to their deals and tricks. That is why so many of her comrades disappeared; they could not resist the temptation.

And now it was her turn to prove that she could.

"I am ready," she said steadily.

"Know this apprentice," the Knight-Commander said gravely, "if you fail, we Templars will perform our duty. You will die."

Cullen shut his eyes as if he were in pain, and did not look at her. Veira looked straight at the Knight-Commander, not flinching or showing any sign of fear, even if that was a lie. She owed that much to herself.

He continued. "This is lyrium," he said, gesturing towards a spire that had a brilliant blue aura radiating from it, with what looked like a deep blue gem inside. "The essence of magic, and your gateway into the Fade."

Irving walked over to her and stood close to her, his voice lowering. "The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you. Keep your wits about you, and remember the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

Veira nodded, giving the elderly man a reassuring smile.

"The apprentice must go through this test alone, First Enchanter," the Knight-Commander warned. "You are ready."

Veira turned to the spiral with the lyrium. Walking towards it slowly, she held her breath, the weight of the room thickening. She reached towards the bright blue light, and it entangled her fingers with a warmth she had never felt before in such intensity. She drew back her hand, staring at it. She could feel her senses dimming, as if she were falling asleep. Darkness etched at the corners of her eyes, until she could no longer see. The last thing she saw was a bright light.

Her eyes opened, and she gasped at the sight. She was no longer in the Harrowing Chamber, she was surrounded by cliffs and rock everywhere she turned. The atmosphere was heavy, and the sky and surroundings were a greenish colour. This place was full of magic, she could tell. It wasn't as if she had never been in the Fade before. The Fade is where people went when they dreamt, but being taken to the Fade like this, it felt different. Having been sent manually, there was no dream world that Veira's subconscious flourished in every night, rather she had control over her movements and everywhere she turned was endless rock.

"Well," she said to herself, "better not waste time."

Keeping herself aware of her surroundings, she made her way through the paths. This being a test, of course she would run into things that would provide challenges to overcome. Not full on spirits that could speak, there were little wisps that attacked her on sight, shooting lightning at her. They were easily defeated; one cold spell was more than enough. As she cleared a particularly large bed of rock, she found something quite different; a mouse that was not ghostly like most spirits. Its head perked at the sound of her footsteps and immediately made its way toward her, bounding adorably on its tiny, short legs. From such a small creature, she did not expect to hear a grown man's voice come from it.

"Someone else thrown to the wolves," the mouse said with disgust, "as fresh and unprepared as ever."

Veira blinked, reminding herself that this was indeed the Fade. "I-"

The mouse continued his ramble. "It isn't right that they do this, the Templars! Not to you, me, or anyone!"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You? Are you saying you were once a mage?"

The mouse looked down. "Yes...I...I was, once I think. Heh. Now look at me. I've been here...for so long, I don't really remember...but I do know I was a mage who took the Harrowing. And now...I'm stuck here."

"Why do you look like a mouse, then?"

"Hah! You think you are really here, in that body of yours? You look that way because you believe you do. And I...look like this because I...want to hide." His voice became strained and angry. "It's always the same. But...it isn't your fault. You're in the same boat as I was. I suppose I don't need to hide myself from you."

There was a flash of light, and the mouse shifted into a thin man. He was wearing apprentice robes, and his face was solemn and tired. She didn't recognize him from the Circle, but who knew how long he had been in the Fade? It was conceivable for a person to be trapped in the Fade, even when their body expires. Such cases are rare though, and perhaps this man was killed before his mind had a chance to return.

"There we go," he said, smoothing out some creases in his sleeve. He looked at her, and gave her a weak smile. "You can call me...well...Mouse." He shrugged, and Veira nodded in reply.

"It's not my real name, of course, but...the Templars kill you if you take too long, you see. That's what they did to me, I think." He shook his hands in anger. "I have no body to reclaim! And you...you don't have much time."

"I'm sorry for what happened, Mouse." Veira said sadly.

Mouse looked down, but then returned her gaze. "I...thank you. But, but you should not linger. There is a presence here, one just for an apprentice like you. You have to face the creature, a demon and resist it...if you can."

"Yes, I know, I can feel it too. I am ready to face it."

"Heh...such confidence and bravery. I am...envious." Mouse looked around, scratching his cheek. "There are...other spirits here that will help you, if you can believe what you see. I will follow you, if you want. My chance is long gone, but you... you may find a way out."

Veira nodded, and flashed him a smile. She was not against the idea of having an ally. "Let's go then."

They made their way forward, Mouse returning to his rodent form. They walked past a large open area that radiated heat, and the evil presence was strongest there. Mouse advised to leave it be for now, as getting help from the other spirits first was a much safer and intelligent idea, and Veira agreed. They passed it and were attacked by more wisps and were introduced to Fade wolves, which were much more difficult to kill than the wisps. They had to stop once or twice so she could cast a healing spell, but it was enough to mend the bites quickly and efficiently. Soon enough, they reached a new path with a white, glowing figure in the distance. She could sense it was a spirit, not a demon.

"Ah, a spirit of Valour," Mouse said. "He will help you...probably."

As they drew closer, Veira saw that he was in Templar armour, which only increased her nerves.

It was as if the spirit was waiting for company. It stared at her as she drew close to it, quite like a real Templar would. When the spirit spoke, his deep voice echoed all around them. "Another mortal thrown into the fire, I see. Your mages have devised a cowardly test. Better to pit them against each other to prove their worth through skill alone, than to be sent to fight a demon unarmed."

That would indeed be a preferable test than this. Much less fatal. "I am inclined to agree with you, spirit," Veira replied, "though I have little choice, either way."

"Indeed," the spirit huffed, folding his arms, "the fault lies not with you, but the mages who sent you here."

Veira thought it was more the fault of the Templars and the Chantry, but she decided not to speak that opinion. It was the kind of opinion that got mages killed.

"That you are still here means you have not yet faced your demon. I wish you luck, and glorious battle ahead."

She smiled at the spirit in thanks, but she was determined to have some help for the demon. As she was, she was completely weaponless, and a good mage staff turned the tides in a battle of magic. She noticed there were several weapons behind the spirit, in particular, a well crafted mage staff. Surely, she could use it. "I was wondering if perhaps you could help me spirit. Maybe I could put that staff to use, so that I will not be unarmed?"

"Hmn, a weapon is a need for a battle. These weapons are forged from my will, brought into being by my thoughts. They will draw blood from the thoughts of your own, should you use it." The spirit put his hands behind his back, staring at her thoughtfully. "I could give you one of my weapons...but only if you prove yourself to be worthy. I challenge you to a duel; Valour shall test your mettle as it should be."

Veira considered the proposal. She knew he would be much harder to defeat than the wisps and the wolves, but she needed every possible help that she could before she faced that demon. Her life depended on it. She also knew that spirits like Valour were not after her life, and if she lost to him, what chance would she have against the demon? If she should die, it would be gentler by Valour's hand.

"Very well. I accept your challenge."

Valour drew his sword and bellowed a war cry, and Veira readied a strong cold spell. As he charged, she threw the spell at him, hitting him with a terrible icy breath. He grunted, but continued to charge. She dodged his attack barely; it was more like she stumbled away from the blade. As she was composing herself, he swung his sword again, and she didn't have time enough to dodge it. His sword sliced her arm, just below her shoulder. The pain was very real, but she ignored it as best she could. She gritted her teeth and she concentrated on another spell. Lightning raced through her body and accumulated at her fingers, shooting it like an arrow at the spirit. The lightning spread throughout his armour, making his back arch as he yelled. She used that opportunity to continue shooting arcane spells at him as fast as she could. He yelled another war cry and charged, intending to run her through. She blanched, but she realized she could cast another cold spell which froze him solid that time. Powering up her lightning again, she finished him off with a powerful jolt.

Fighting a tough opponent without a staff was more difficult than she could have anticipated. Magic not only drew power from a mage, but through their movement and emotion. Watching a mage fight was like watching a dance, as they would twist and twirl and sweep where they stood. The smoother the movement was the better the spell, and any misstep would result in either an ineffective spell or a rebound. Lucky for her, she had excellent control over her spells, and although without a staff to enhance them, her arms and hands were enough to cast spells that brought Valour to his knees.

He knelt before her, defeated. Veira breathed in relief, casting a warm healing spell that mended the gash in her arm. As she recovered, he slowly regained his posture, bowing after he stood. "You have proven your valour and strength through honourable battle. You have earned this staff. Take it, and defeat your demon."

Veira bowed as well, out of mutual respect. Spirits were nothing like demons, as they wanted nothing from mortals. "Thank you, spirit."

She took the staff gratefully, and said her goodbyes to the spirit. The staff was powerful indeed, she could feel it increasing her magic just by touch. The wood felt natural in her hands, smiling to herself as she fingered the grooves embedded in it. This would be a great help indeed. She sensed something else farther down the road, and continued in that direction, Mouse bounding along behind her. She fought more wolves before she reached it, but she easily killed them with the staff glowing with all its might. As good as the staff made her feel, her new found confidence evaporated when she saw the creature she was approaching.

It looked like a sleeping bear to Veira...but she used the word loosely. Its coat was a deep red colour, like blood, and horns ran all over its body. It was disturbing to look at, and she could now sense it was very powerful. As they drew closer, the beast opened one eye slightly. It was bright red.

"Hmm...So you're the mortal being hunted..." it said lazily, with a second, more sinister voice behind the tired one, "and the small one...is he to be a snack for me?"

She saw Mouse recoil slightly, then transformed back into his human form, probably to look less small.

The bear stood up slowly, sniffing them. "Hnn...no matter. The demon will get to you eventually. Perhaps there will be scraps left."

Veira frowned, but stood her ground. "Are you to help me...spirit?" She doubted that was the case, but for some reason, it was a tad hard to think.

"Hnnn begone mortal," the bear said, tired. "Surely you have better things to do than bother Sloth."

It was now Veira's turn to recoil. It was a demon, of the sin Sloth. Known for catching their prey by forcing them to sleep in the dream world the demon created. Only when the demon itself actually wanted to bother itself with catching prey, of course. "I should have known you were a demon."

"Indeed..." he yawned, "it...would be interesting to see the world through your eyes...but...too much effort involved."

Veira's lip curled. "Lucky me."

"Yes...yes. Now away you go."

"He's very powerful..." Mouse said thoughtfully, "perhaps...he can help you. Maybe he can teach you how to be like him."

"Like me?" Sloth asked lazily, "ah you mean, take my form? But why? Most mortals are so very fond of their form, and she has a very nice staff. You don't...need me."

She looked at mouse reproachfully. "I'm not about to take a deal from a demon, Mouse."

"Hmm, not her perhaps," Sloth continued, staring at the tiny creature "but you little one? You have long forgotten your form...I could teach you instead."

"M-me? Really? Could I?" Mouse asked giddily.

"Are you sure Mouse?" Veira asked cautiously. "He's a demon, remember?"

"A demon's deal makes no difference for me, and since it isn't you accepting it, you needn't worry about him possessing you," Mouse smiled, nodding to himself. "Plus I can help you better if I can use this power."

"So we are agreed?" Sloth asked, his head bobbing as if her were falling asleep. "I will teach the little one if you can solve three riddles. Might as well make it...a tad more interesting. If you fail then...I get to devour you both. Is that a fair deal?"

Riddles? Veira couldn't help but grin slightly. She loved riddles and poetry and anything like it. She was very good at them too, thanks to thirteen years of obsessing over books. "You may regret asking me that."

"Hnn, very well then. My first riddle is this; I have seas with no water, coasts with no sand, towns without people, and mountains with no land. What am I?"

Veira smiled, knowing the answer immediately. "A map."

Sloth grumbled. "Yes, you are correct. Then the next one; I am rarely touched, but often held, if you have wit, you'll use me well. What am I?"

"My tongue," she laughed, not letting the irony slip past her.

"Nrr, yes yes, you're witty tongue," Sloth growled, annoyed. "Then one last riddle; Often I will spin a tale, never will I charge a fee, I'll amuse you for an entire eve, but alas, you will not remember me. What am I?"

Veira smiled again. "A dream. These are not very hard, you know."

Sloth's eyes blazed at the mage being smart with him, but he was too lazy to do anything about it."Hrrr, you are correct. Very well, little one, I will teach you, as promised. It will not take very long. Now...listen carefully..."

It really didn't take long for Mouse to learn the bear form. Though he looked like a normal bear, and not the monstrous form of Sloth.

"I-I did it! I'm a bear!" Mouse cheered happily. "It's so different and heavy!"

"Yes, yes, congratulations. Now leave me be, mortal." Sloth collapsed to the ground and curled up.

Veira did not say any goodbyes.

They left Sloth to his slumber, the mage breathing easier the farther they were away from the demon. Her head could think clearly now, and she realized that it must have been Sloth's influence that slowed her mind so. Thank the Maker she was really good when it came to riddles, and Sloth obviously wasn't that great at coming up with difficult ones. Mouse seemed much more confident as a bear, and helped her fight off the spirit wolves that attacked. As it was, they left the company of one demon to find another, but it was time. Veira did feel better that mouse could help her now. They made their way past Valour, towards the hot open field where the demon stayed. This time, the flaming demon was waiting for her.

It spoke in a terrible, deep voice full of malice. "And so you come to me at last."

Veira glared at it, grabbing her staff. It laughed at her. "Soon I shall see your world through your eyes, creature. You shall be mine, body and soul!"

"Against both of us demon, you have no chance." Veira warned.

Chills ran down her spine when the demon flared up, a blood-curdling laugh booming from it. "Amusing. What happened to our deal Mouse? Don't tell me you've forgotten."

Veira's eyes went wide, and she froze. What deal?

"There is no deal between us! Not anymore!" Mouse yelled desperately.

The demon tilted its heading, mocking him."Aww. What about those wonderful meals we shared?"

"I don't need you to bargain with anymore." Mouse grinned nastily, nodding at Veira. "I have a good friend now."

The demon chuckled. "We shall see."

It let out a piercing screech, and flames erupted all around them. Veira couldn't afford to concern herself over Mouse, not when the demon made of fire charged at her. She casted her cold spell, which hurt the demon substantially. Mouse, who derived a lot of pleasure seeing the fire demon scream in pain, pounced on top of it, biting and clawing every crevice. Lightning shot through Veira and into the demon, and between the two of them, the demon did not last very long. A few burns later, the demon fell. Too easily, it seemed.

Mouse turned back into his human form, and turned to her, beaming. "You did it. You actually did it! I had my doubts before, none of you ever seemed worthy!"

Veira paused, feeling more nervous than before. She kept a wary distance from Mouse. "All of this...was too easy."

"That is because you are a true mage of course!" Mouse cheered happily. "All the others...they never stood a chance. But you have taught me there is hope for me!"

Anger stirred in Veira. "And what exactly do you think you can get from me?"

Mouse looked surprised and hurt. "You defeated the demon. You will grow and soon become an enchanter with no equal." He smiled. "And there is hope in someone as small and forgotten as me. If you truly want to help me like before...well, there may be a way out of here and get outside, you just need to want to let me in."

She glared at mouse, knowing exactly what was going on now. She berated herself for not realizing sooner. "And I'm beginning to think that demon wasn't my test."

Mouses' eyes widened, and he stuttered "Wha-of course it was! How could you-" He stopped when Veira's glare deepened, and reached for her staff. A large, eerie grin formed on his face, and his head tilted. "My, you are a smart one." His voice deepened, and it sounded just like the demon before. "Simple killing's a warriors job. The real danger of the fade is preconception, relentless trust." He transformed once more, but this time, she saw what he truly was. A grotesque creature dressed in robes, taller than anything she'd ever seen.

"Keep your wits about you. True tests never end."

After it disappeared, Veira once again faded to black.


	2. Grey Wardens

[Again, a lot of dialog in game paraphrased. Thank you Bioware, for the excellent dialog! :D]

Veira awoke. It took her a bit to realize she was in her bed, in the apprentice quarters. She wiped her forehead which was covered with sweat and drew a shaky breath. She was alive. She had passed.

"Hey, you're awake!"

She turned to see Jowan beaming at her. Jowan had been her best friend ever since they were small children, and it was a huge relief to see his face. He was closer to her than Irving, developing a sibling-like bond between the two, even as opposites as they were. She was elven, him human. She was a good student, he was...well. Not a favourite amongst the seniors. But Jowan had an infectious cheerfulness with her, a determined mind to better himself, and shared the same anxieties and experiences that she had. He was family.

"Are you alright, Veira? Say something, please!"

She blinked. "Ah, yes, I'm fine Jowan." She sat up, turning to face him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad. They carried you in this morning, and I thought the worst. So many don't ever return so I..." He shook his head. "Anyway, is it really that dangerous? What was it like?"

She knew it was forbidden to tell apprentices about the Harrowing, but she didn't care. Jowan wasn't the type to babble the information to other mages, and their friendship meant more than following Circle rules.

"I had to go into the Fade," she said simply, not telling him the juicy details right away.

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's it?"

She grinned. "And I had to face a demon."

"Maker..." Jowan breathed. "Well...it makes sense really. Mages have to be able to resist..." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He pouted at her. "Now you get to move upstairs into the nice chambers."

She giggled. "Like that will stop you from sneaking in just to see me."

He laughed right back. "Oh? And what makes you think I'll care enough to see you?"

"You know you can't liiive withooout mee~!" she sang, grinning from ear to ear.

He stuck his tongue out at her like a mature adult, but grinned back. When the humour died down, his face shifted into a more haunted expression. Then he sighed. "I wonder when I'll get to do my Harrowing."

She smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure it will be any day now."

His face wilted, and Veira saw fear in his eyes."I just don't know! I've been here longer than you have...and...and I'm worried. That...they don't want to test me."

Her smile faded just as his did. "Jowan...you don't think they'll...make you Tranquil do you?" She sprung from her bed to face him better. "They won't do that!"

The Rite of Tranquility is the other option beside the Harrowing. It cuts off a mage from the Fade, and takes away their magic...along with their emotions. Veira had seen many Tranquil, as they continued to live in the Tower, and it was unsettling every time. They are like empty shells of their former self, speaking in their monotone voice. It was enough to give her nightmares about them, and in her dreams _she_ was always Tranquil. As far as she was concerned, it was a fate worse than death.

"I-I don't know, but everyday it just seems...more and more likely..."

"Jowan...they only force mages to take the Rite if they have proven to dabble in forbidden arts, blood magic," she said firmly. "You have nothing to fear. Unless you ask for the Rite, which you won't, you are safe."

"I hope you're right..." he smiled weakly. He placed a friendly hand on her shoulder in thanks. "Anyway, I came here to tell you First Enchanter Irving wants to see you. Probably to congratulate you."

"Ah, alright. Thanks Jowan." She hugged the poor frightened mage before she left, asking, "See you later?"

He nodded, leaving her before she did. She watched his back as he walked, his footsteps seeming heavy. She shook her head. No...Irving wouldn't allow it. She made her way upstairs, ignoring the whispers of the other apprentices, some of who were disdainful of her success. Many of them held a grudge against her for being mentored by Irving, an honour all apprentices craved. They envied the obvious affection the First Enchanter had for the elf, their lessons together and their weekly lunch and tea. She wanted to tell them that jealousy was unbecoming of them, but making enemies with other mages was not advisable. They had enough issues with the Templars, and it was better to have companions rather than those who would willingly turn their backs when one ran into trouble. Not that they could do much in the first place anyway. Also, mage pranks.

Reaching the enormous library on her way to Irving's office, she had to fight the urge to take a book. There was nothing in this world better than books, she absolutely believed, and if she truly wasn't careful, she could spend the next five hours reading away.

She grinned at the apprentices practicing their spells; one poor mage loosing control of his fire spell, only to be blown over by his mentors' cold spell. She passed an ongoing lesson for the children, who gathered around their teacher in a Circle, wide eyed and curious. She smiled at them. She remembered those lessons at that age. She had been much angrier back then...for various reasons. Luckily, Jowan and Irving managed to ease that anger, which at the time she felt impossible. She had been very mistrustful of humans in particular, being raised an Alienage; tiny, broken down homes clustered together behind gates where elves were forced to live in in big cities.

As much as she hated it in the beginning, the Circle was home. It had shaped the person she was today. She had many fond memories of the tower, and would continue to create new ones, since mages could never leave. Only on special occasions with permission from the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter could a mage leave. She hadn't left the tower once since she arrived all those years ago. It was bitter-sweet she felt, having spent many hours at her window longing to go back outside, even if for a few minutes. But the tower was keeping everyday people away to protect the mages, just as it was protecting everyday people from the mages. At least, that was what the Chantry said. What she loved most of all of the tower was of course her fellow mages, frustrating as they can sometimes be, and the endless amount of books at her disposal.

But when that was all said and done, the Circle was still a prison. Gilded and pretty, but a cage nonetheless. And she would know nothing else.

As she left the study and emerged to the next level, she saw Cullen standing outside the Chantry. Truthfully, he was the only Templar that she liked seeing. She walked over to him, smiling and waving. "Cullen!"

His eyes widened in fear, then embarrassment; his cheeks flushing crimson. He had been standing up straight before she spoke to him, now he fumbled to stand still and couldn't decide where to put his hands. Veira felt her own cheeks redden. It was painfully obvious to everyone that he had a crush on her, and she wasn't oblivious to it.

"A-a-ah...h-hello, Surana," he squeaked nervously, "Co-congratulations...on the H-harrowing. Passing it, I m-mean."

She beamed at him and bowed her head slightly. "Thank you very much Cullen. And you can call me Veira, you know!"

It looked as if the blush on his cheeks would bruise. "Ah, buh-but I- Templars can't- I don't... I don't want to be rude."

She giggled. "You're not being rude by using my name Cullen. Don't be silly. Now say it after me; Veira."

"I-er," he looked at the floor, drilling holes into the stone by his stare. "V-v-veira."

She clapped her hands once. "Good!" She smiled kindly at him, though he didn't notice. "I'd like us to be friends Cullen. There's no reason Templars and mages can't be."

Actually there were plenty of reasons. But Cullen was an exception.

"I-I would l-like that too...but the rules...it's just...I have to follow-" He cut himself off, closing his eyes. He looked...ashamed? Or perhaps out of control, which he was. The Chantry did everything it could to keep mages from being treated like normal people, and Cullen was a part of the Chantry.

"Yes, I know," she said sadly, "and you would have killed me if I failed my Harrowing."

"I didn't want to! I mean, I wouldn't have wanted to," he said desperately, "but it's the duty of a Templar to-"

She raised her hand, with a sad smile. "I understand."

And she did understand. But it was still a despicable duty, born from fear and mistrust. And it still angered her. But she had to keep that anger in check, because no one in the world would support her, except for other mages. It was that kind of anger that made sure the Templars had justification in what they do.

"But...but you passed," he said with relief, "and I-I'm glad you are alright."

"Thank you. Perhaps I should stop distracting you from your duties." That sounded colder than she would have liked.

"O-oh! You're not distracting me...well you are but, I li- I mean, uh, you can talk to me. Anytime." He finally looked at her again.

She smiled. "Really? Then maybe we can talk some other time. Perhaps in my chamber? There we can talk all night."

The look on his face was priceless. Poor Cullen, his knees seemed to get weak and whatever skin that had not gone red was now the deepest shade of ruby Veira had ever seen. He tried to say something but all the words that left his mouth were incoherent. He squeaked a 'sorryIhavetogonowbye!' and bolted down the hallway as fast as he could.

She smiled as he ran, but then felt horrible. It wasn't fair for her to tease him like that, and only because she was angry. It was a childish thing to do. She would apologize to him later, after seeing Irving.

She passed the Stockroom, where the Tranquil Owain stayed. She had talked to Owain before, but it really felt like talking to a dead person. He had assured her he preferred to be Tranquil, but he didn't have emotions to tell him otherwise. There was only so much of his lifeless eyes that she could take, shuddering at the memory. Sometimes she felt they were still at the tower to remind the mages what they could become, if they step out of line.

She finally made it to Irving's office. As she entered, she frowned to discover the Knight-Commander was there, yelling at Irving once again. There was a third man there, whom she did not recognize. Judging by his armour, she surmised that he wasn't a mage, nor a Templar, nor a priest.

"-most of the Senior Enchanters are all gone, Wynne, Uldred. We've given enough of our own for this war effort!"

"Your own?" Irving scoffed, "since when did you think of mages as your own, Gregoir? Or are you afraid of letting the mages out of Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker given powers?

Veira's heart immediately warmed at his words.

The Knight-Commander's face went white with fury. "How _dare _you accuse me of-!"

The third man cleared his throat. "Please gentlemen, enough. Irving, there is someone to see you."

Irving turned to her. "Ah! There you are. Come in, new sister of the Circle."

She bowed her head. "You wanted to see me, First Enchanter?"

"Yes indeed. Come closer, please." She nodded, and did as she was told.

The third man turned to Irving. "This is?"

Irving nodded. "Yes, this is she."

The Knight-Commander looked uncomfortable. "Well, it looks like you are busy. We can continue later."

He shot Veira an unfriendly frown as he passed, and she dutifully ignored it. "Now...where was I?" Irving mumbled. "Oh yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."

Duncan gave her a polite bow. Duncan was much older than her, but definitely younger than Irving. He had dark brown skin and black hair, with a very handsome beard. He looked tough and grizzled, with the composure of stone.

She smiled back at him. "I'm pleased to meet you, sir."

Why was a Grey Warden here? To conscript mages, probably. That must have been what the argument before was about. Was Irving planning on letting her join the Wardens? Did she even want to?

"You've heard the stories of the Wardens, surely? And the ruin of the south? Duncan is here to recruit mages into the army in Ostagar."

So she was right. "Mages have a unique power against darkspawn," Duncan said, "so it is crucial to have as many mages as possible on our side."

"I see," Veira said cautiously, "is there...to be a Blight?"

Duncan looked grim. "If we obtain enough of an army, we could prevent a Blight. But I fear the worst."

"Duncan!" Irving said chuckling, "you worry the poor girl! This is a happy day for her. You have passed your Harrowing, and your phylactery has been sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage of the Circle."

It was the abundant pride Irving felt as he said those words that made Veira happy. She did feel proud about her accomplishments, and allowed herself to be proud of herself too. She beamed at Irving. Yes, this was a good day, after all.

"I present to you your new robes and staff and ring, with the insignia of the Circle. Wear them proudly, as you have earned them."

"Thank you, First Enchanter." She took her new clothing and staff, and held them with delight. Her new staff she placed behind her, and like all mage staves, it was enchanted to stay in place at her back by itself. The ring she slipped onto her finger, and she would change her robes the first chance she got.

"It goes without saying that you will not discuss the Harrowing with the apprentices. Now, take the rest of the day off, or study in the library. It is your choice."

She hid her guilty eyes by looking at the floor, seeing as she already told Jowan about the Harrowing.

"I will return to my quarters then, Irving." Duncan said.

"Ah yes, would you be so kind as to escort Duncan back his room, child?"

"Of course." She was sure that Duncan knew where his quarters were, but it was a matter of politeness. "This way, please."

When they were alone, Duncan spoke up. "Thank you for escorting me, I am glad for the company."

She smiled. "It is my pleasure." She watched him out of the corner of her eye. It wasn't often that she spoke to someone who wasn't a mage or someone of the Chantry, so perhaps he wouldn't mind questions. "If I may ask, what was that argument about?"

"Well, as you know, the relationship between the Chantry and the mages are strained, and that the Chantry only tolerates magic. Any mage in the army can release their full power, without having to worry about Chantry retribution."

"Ah..." Veira groaned. "That is what I expected..." She shook her head, sighing. "Is Ferelden truly in danger of a Blight?"

"A horde has formed in the Korcari Wilds and if we do not stop it, then a Blight would be inevitable. And I believe we need to use every chance we have, regardless of what the Chantry wants. We Grey Wardens believe that an Archdemon is leading the horde."

Veira felt a knot in her stomach. "An Archdemon?"

"Typically, darkspawn form rag tag teams on the surface. But an Archdemon can rally the darkspawn, and create an unstoppable force. I fear this is what we will have to face."

Veira nodded grimly. The world hadn't seen a Blight in hundreds of years, but they had nearly destroyed it every time one had torn through the land. Duncan was right. Ferelden needed mage recruits.

"Ah, here are your quarters." She had barely noticed they had made it so far.

"Thank you. Perhaps I shall speak to you again in the future." He bowed.

"I'd like that." She smiled and left him to his rest.

She decided that she should spend the rest of the day studying Blights and darkspawn. Admittedly, there were not that many books about them in the library; only the Grey Wardens really knew anything about them. But if a Blight really did happen, all the mages in the tower could be conscripted into the army. She would rather be more informed than ignorant. But first, she decided to put her new robes on for the first time. The Blight could wait...for now.

She returned to her quarters several floors below and changed. The robe was beautiful, even if that was not the point of mage robes. It was bright gold, decorated with teal and patterns below her torso. It went well with her light brown skin. She couldn't help but stare at herself, something that she didn't do very often. Like most elves, she was shorter and lankier than humans, and being a mage meant she did not have much of muscles. Her hair was a very light brown, almost blond, which she usually kept in braids, tightly wrapped in two buns at the back of her head. She never felt that fashion conscience, but mages tended to be so naturally, with their fancy robes and such. She brushed a strand of hair from her teal eyes, smiling. She could admire herself today because she had worked hard to earn this, and it was her talents that brought her this far. No one could fault her for that, feeling worthy of herself.

She turned to make her way back to the library, but held in a frightened gasp when she saw Jowan in the doorway, panting.

"There...you are," he said out of breath, "been looking...all over...for you."

"Jowan?" she asked, concerned. "Are...are you alright?"

"I- it...I can't tell you right now. Please. We need to talk but not here."

"Maker, Jowan, you are acting like you are in trouble!"

He pressed a finger to his lips desperately. "Shhh! Not so loud. Please, meet me in the Chantry. It'll be safe to talk there."

"I-alright, I promise."

He nodded once and ran off. She grimaced. What did he mean it was 'safer' in the Chantry? But she left for the stairs as fast as she could. Jowan was in danger.


	3. Phylactery

Practically running to the Chantry, Veira's brain buzzed with several possible circumstances that would scare Jowan that much. She considered what they had discussed before, but Veira refused to believe Irving would sign Jowan's life away like that. Jowan wasn't a bloodmage...or particularly dangerous. Although she would never say it, his talents as a mage were...only slightly less than average. But he was very smart and kind, and she knew how determined he was to get better. She knew one day he would, and promised him she would support him no matter what. No, if anything, Jowan was probably under threat from a overly suspicious Templar. Which was something that could indeed cause the early death of an innocent mage.

It was odd to stand in front of the Chantry. She never stayed close to this place unless she had to, never mind actually going inside. Not since she had a lengthy discussion with a fellow mage, who told her that she prayed every day that the Circle would be Annulled by the Templars, and that the Maker would take her magic away. She had lost a lot of sleep over that. She peeked through the entrance, searching for him. The Chantry was particularly empty at the moment, which was a good sign. She spotted Jowan at the back, along with a woman she sort of recognized; she was an initiate of the Chantry, though she did not know her name.

Jowan waved Veira over. "There you are," he said, nervously looking at her, then back to the woman.

Not wanting to bead around the bush, she asked "What's going on? Who is this?"

Jowan blushed, and Veira blinked in response. "This is Lily," he said, smiling. "You...remember a few months back when I told you I met someone? Well..." he took Lily's hand, who smiled back. "This is she."

A few things ran through Veira's head. One, they were adorable. Two, she was surprised that she hadn't met her sooner. And three, this was absolutely forbidden.

But the first thing that came out of her mouth was "Oh. I thought she was make believe." Smooth Veira. Very supportive.

Lily giggled, and Jowan pursed his lips. "Ha, ha, very funny, Veira. You should be a comedian."

Veira shook her head, and smacked her forehead lightly. "Er, no, what I mean to say is I...guess I expected to have met her earlier than this."

Jowan frowned, squeezing Lily's hand. "To tell you the truth, I was afraid."

"_Jowan_," Veira said gently, "you know you can tell me anything."

"I-I know! But Lily's going to become a priest, and...you know it's...forbidden for those given to the Chantry to have relations with men. I didn't want to tell anyone because I was scared of the wrong people finding out. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Veira smiled. Jowan really did love her a lot, if it meant keeping her a secret from his best friend. "There's no need to apologize. I understand."

Jowan looked shocked. "So...you support us then? Even after keeping you in the dark?"

She giggled. "Jowaaaan," she teased, "what sort of friend would I be if I didn't? Of course I support you. I promised I would, remember?"

He beamed, as did Lily. "Thank you," he said, "Really I...thank you."

She nodded, then tilted her head to the side. "So, this is what the panic was about? I thought you'd be...well...in life threatening danger or something."

His smile faded. "Ah..."

Lily was the one who spoke. "He is in danger...and that's what this is really about."

A knot formed in her stomach. "What's going on?"

"Remember what we talked about earlier?" Jowan asked. "I know why they won't let me take my Harrowing...they...they really are going to make me Tranquil!"

Her breath caught in her throat. "N-no..." she stuttered. "Irving wouldn't do that! He wouldn't!"

"I-I know how much Irving means to you...he's been your mentor for so long now..." Jowan said sadly, "but...Lily found the documents for the Rite...signed by Irving and the Knight-Commander." His face fell, reflecting the crushed, agonized expression Veira was sporting now. "They'll take everything from me! My hopes, dreams, my love for Lily! Everything that makes me who I am!"

"Oh...Jowan I'm so..." The words were difficult to say, her head hurting. "But why would they do this?"

"There's been..rumours about me," Jowan said, "that I'm...a bloodmage. I-It's not true! They think I'll be a danger if I become a Circle mage! It...it isn't safe for me to be here anymore."

"What...what are you going to do?" Veira knew the answer before she asked. He needed to escape the Tower.

"I have to leave the Circle...forever. I need to destroy my phylactery."

Phylacteries were vials of blood taken from mages when they first arrive at the Circle. They are sent off to Denerim once mages become full Circle mages, and are used to track them down if they become apostates. If Jowan was ever going to be truly free, it would indeed have to be destroyed.

"Where will you go i-...when you escape? What will you do?" She was heartbroken at the idea of never seeing Jowan again...but if it saved his life...

"Marry Lily," he said instantly, "We...we'd leave Ferelden...find a farm somewhere...and just live. Like we all should." Lily smiled at him, and kissed him on the cheek.

Veira nodded. She was simultaneously happy and sad for Jowan, and to her disgust, she was also a bit jealous. Once they left, they could live as a normal couple, in a normal environment with no Templars and no Chantry. It sounded like...heaven. A heaven that she herself could not have.

"Veira," Jowan said, serious, "I know this is asking too much of you, but will you help us? I-I realize this would mean turning you against Irving...and everything you've been taught as a mage...but please. It would mean the world to me if..." He cut himself off, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"I promised that I would," she said, only after a few seconds of hesitation, "and I keep my promises."

Both Jowan and Lily looked ecstatic and relieved. "Thank you so much," Lily said shakily. Veira guessed she must have been scared a lot more than Jowan, since she didn't know the elf at all. "We can't do this without you."

"Do you have a plan?" It had to be a good one, or else they'd likely all be killed.

Lily nodded. "I can get us into the Repository... but there's a problem. The door to the phylacteries have two locks, and only Irving and the Knight-Commander holds one of each. But it's just a door, and what's a door to mages?"

Veira pondered. "So, we'll need to break through."

"I've seen a rod of fire melt through locks before," Jowan said thoughtfully. "You can get one from the stockroom, but Owain won't give them away to apprentices."

"Alright," Veira nodded. "I'll see if I can get it. I won't attract as much attention by myself."

"Thank you," Lily said kindly, "our prayers go with you."

Stopping at the doorway, Veira looked back at the couple before leaving. Jowan had wrapped his arms around Lily in a comforting embrace, rocking her back and forth gently. Smiling to herself, she left the Chantry quickly. _I swear I'll save you, Jowan._

But something bothered her. She believed Jowan, in that people _thought_ he was a bloodmage...but it was still hard for her to accept that Irving signed the Rite. Maybe...maybe the Knight-Commander forced him? That certainly sounded like him. Regardless, Veira needed to hear Irving's side...even if it made her mission harder.

Irving was still in his office, reading his endless paperwork. She entered cautiously, still unsure how to go about asking him about it. "First Enchanter? May I speak to you?"

He looked up. "Ahh, hello my dear," he stood up slowly from his desk, "Tell me, did you lead Duncan back to his chamber in peace?"

Taken aback, she nodded. "Y-yes, I did."

"Good, good. Did you speak to him at all?"

"Er, yes, a bit. We spoke of the darkspawn, mostly."

He smiled and nodded. "I wanted you to get to know Duncan, if a little. He is an honourable man, and we can learn much from him and the Grey Wardens."

Veira said nothing. Irving studied her face, noting that something was wrong. "Is there something the matter, child?"

"It's..." she started, struggling with the words. "It's about Jowan. He says he's going to be made Tranquil."

Irving frowned. "And how does Jowan know that?" He sighed. "I suppose that initiate he's been dallying with has something to do with it."

He snorted when Veira balked at him. "I did not become First Enchanter by keeping my eyes and ears shut. You'd be surprised how much I know, including the few times even _you_ sought another mage's company."

Her ears reddened, but she kept her composure, though that could change quickly. "Please, don't let him do this. Don't do this to Jowan, I'm begging you."

"Him?" Irving asked. "You must mean Gregoir. He has told me he has proof and an eye witness who saw Jowan practicing bloodmagic. I cannot say more."

"But-!"

"Child," he warned, but then softened his tone, "I'm sorry. If it were completely up to me, things might be different, but the Chantry..." His eyes grew sympathetic, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Veira. This Rite will go through."

Rage boiled in her blood. She could not believe what she was hearing. "He's making it up!" she snarled, "He hates all mages, you know that!"

"You cannot speak that way against my colleague...our colleague." Irving said, annoyed. "I ask you told hold your tongue. You know little of this matter."

Little-?! She turned away from him, brushing his hand off her shoulder. "You know this is wrong, "she said angrily. "I have nothing more to say."

She heard him sigh as she walked away. "Perhaps one day, you shall see my side."

She slammed the door behind her. Storming off, she wiped the tears that formed in her eyes and threatened to stream down her face. Of all the things that happened to her, this was the most bitter, the most painful. She felt like she would throw up. For him to brush her off, treat her like a small child, and condemn her closest friend so easily...it was too much. Her footsteps heavy, she made her way to the stockroom.

"Welcome to the Circle's stockroom of magical items," Owain said flatly, his voice monotone and unfeeling as usual. "My name is Owain. How can I assist you?"

Smiling politely, and fighting the urge to shudder, she managed a cheerful "I need a rod of fire."

"Rods of fire serve many purposes," Owain said, his unblinking eyes on her. "Why do you wish to acquire this particular item?"

"For research purposes of course," she mused pleasantly. "Is that not enough?"

He handed a sheet a paper to her. "Here is the form 'Request for a rod of fire' to be signed and dated by a senior Enchanter. I can complete your request after it is signed."

"Thank you," she said quickly, taking the paper and leaving promptly.

This...was a problem. Which senior Enchanter could she ask, without too many questions? If it was for research like she told Owain...who would be the one to readily agree? Snapping her fingers when an idea popped into her head, she turned to head towards the laboratory.

Senior Enchanter Leorah was the newest addition to the Enchanters, and she was on an acquaintance level with Veira. She was an elf, like Veira, and had the same passion of learning and study as she did. Convincing her seemed to be an easier task. She hoped.

"Senior Enchanter Leorah?" Veira asked, "may I speak with you?"

"Hm?" she said absently, turning around to face her. "Oh. Hello. Is...uh, there something I can help with?"

"Indeed there is. I was hoping you could sign this form, for a rod of fire. I need one for some research I'm doing." She presented the paper to Leorah.

"A rod of fire, hm?" She looked the paper over. "What kind of research?"

Maker. Nothing is ever easy. "Er, the usual research that involves a rod of fire."

Leorah raised an eyebrow at her. "I know how that sounds," Veira said desperately, "but I really need this rod. _Please_."

"Hmm," she said, glancing at the storage room nervously. "How about you help me in return for my signature. I'm...in a bit of trouble, myself."

"Oh? What's wrong?" Lucky.

Leorah leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I-I don't know how it happened but...the storage room has been infested with...spiders. Big ones." She looked fearful. "I haven't been a senior Enchanter long, so if I tell anyone, they'll think I'm incompetent! I've just been so busy with my new duties that...well. But, if you can clear them out, I'll sign your form. And we won't speak of this. Ever."

"I can certainly do that," Veira smiled. "I promise."

"Really?" She sighed in relief. "Thank you, I'll be waiting here."

Leorah wasn't kidding. The spiders were larger than herself, and there were quite a few. The storage room was a mess, covered with webs. It took some time for Veira to kill them all, but her spells were strong enough to prevent serious injury. After a good thirty minutes, she had cleared the way.

Leorah was extremely grateful for the help, and signed the paper right away. Thanking her, she left promptly for the stockroom. Owain accepted the signature, without a smile or a nod, and handed her a rod. Unsettled, as she usually was when interacting with Owain, she thanked him and returned to Jowan and Lily.

"Thank the Maker you're back!" Jowan said worried. "You were gone for a while!"

"Sorry, it's a long story," Veira said hurriedly, "But I have the rod."

"Excellent!" Lily said excitedly. "To the Repository then. Freedom awaits!"

Veira nodded, and actually prayed to the Maker that it would work. Desperate times.


	4. Conscription

They waited until most of the mages retired for the night, slipping through the halls mostly unseen, they eyes that did see them were half asleep from the days study. They were very cautious not to be seen by the Templars, which was not an easy feat. Luckily, the basement door was not guarded, and there was no one left around to see them entering.

It was completely dark in the basement, so Veira had to relight the torches. As the stone walls illuminated, she checked for any guards quickly. She breathed in relief when she found none.

"It's clear," she said, grinning. So far, things were proceeding smoothly.

They found a large door that was the entrance to the next part of the basement. Lily gasped a little, staring up at the massive door.

"The Chantry calls this the Victim's Door," she breathed, "It's built from two hundred and seventy seven planks, one for each original Templar. It is a reminder to all the dangers those cursed with magic pose."

Veira frowned up at the door. "Do you know how to get past it?"

Lily nodded. "Only a Templar and a mage opening the door together can unlock it. The Chantry provides the password, and all you'll need to do is touch it and release mana, and it should open."

"Sounds easy enough," Jowan grinned, "and not at all destructive."

"The less destruction, the better," Veira laughed. "Anyway, let's go."

"Alright," Lily said. "First the password. Sword of the Maker, tears of the Fade."

There was a noise inside the door that sounded like a spell had unlocked. Lily grinned, then turned to Veira. "Any spell will do."

Veira walked forward and rested her hand on the door. Relaxing, arcane magic flowed through her fingers, the light blue aura of it trailing up the door. The aura pulsed once, then disappeared, followed by a loud 'click' noise. The door slowly opened by itself.

Veira quickly checked for guards again, signalling for them to follow when there were none. She lit torches as they went, always checking for others before doing so.

"There it is," Lily exclaimed excitedly, "the repository door!"

Veira briefly scanned the rest of the room; it was empty, only one unmoving armour stood against the wall. It was empty, and only there for decoration. She readied the rod of fire.

"I assume this door has no password?" she asked Lily.

"No," she replied, "but I do know it's locked."

"Right," Veira said, activating the rod, "well, here goes..."

The rod grew warmer and she aimed it at the locks, then willed it to fire.

Nothing happened.

"Er," she blinked. She tried again. Still, nothing happened.

"W-what's going on?" Lily almost yelled, "why isn't it working!?"

Veira stared at the rod. The rod wasn't broken, that she knew. What could prevent it from working?

Then it hit her. "Jowan, can you cast anything?"

He blinked, but then he gaped as he realized it too. His fingers glowed with magic, but nothing happened. "No, I can't. Our magic isn't working!"

"Of course," Lily said through her teeth, "what better protection for the phylacteries than by taking away a mage's magic? Look at these wards," she pointed at several writings on the door, "these must have been placed by the Templars! We-we're finished!""

Veira gritted her teeth. Was it over? If they gave up now, Jowan's fate was sealed.

"There must be another way in..." she said, biting her thumb."I refuse to give up now."

"There's another door at the end of this hall," Jowan said, pointing in that direction, "it probably leads to another part of the repository! What are the odds of finding another entrance?"

"We have to try," Veira said firmly. "If we don't, then all of this was for nothing."

Lily drew a shaky breath. "Alright, I agree. I'm sorry, for losing my head..."

"It's okay, love," Jowan said soothingly, taking her hand. "Let's go."

There was no writing on the second door, so it seemed that it was not enchanted like the repository door. She readied the rod once more, and this time fire shot through it like an arrow would with a bow. The locks turned bright red, and it didn't take long for them to melt right off the door.

"Thank the Maker, it worked!" Lily hugged Jowan tightly, a few tears forming in her eyes. He laughed with her, his own tears threatening to fall as he hugged her back. Veira smiled, giving the couple a few much needed moments of comfort. Of course, it was far from over, but Veira couldn't imagine the stress the two were under every second they spent down here. It was the only kindness she could offer. But her smile faded and her eyes widened in horror when she saw the empty armour behind them begin to move.

The next few minutes happened as if in a dream. Time slowed down to a crawl, and Veira watched the armour draw it's sword and lunge right at Lily. The only thing Jowan could think of in that moment was to shield her. He broke from their embrace, using his body to hide her completely behind him. The armour closed its fingers around the hilt, positioning itself to run them both through.

"Noooo!" Veira cried out, acting on instinct. She grabbed her staff, thrusting it from the ground up in the direction of the armour, like she would have if the staff were a sword. With that motion, the ground erupted with dozens of large icicles, and like swords of ice, they impaled the armour maliciously, stopping its charge completely. The icicles grew and spread, freezing the armour solid.

Veira was shocked. She'd never casted a spell like that before, it was somewhat like her cold spells...but the amount of power and destruction it caused...

"W-when did you learn that spell?!" Jowan asked, gaping at the ice.

"J-just now."

"Maker's breath, you really are a genius."

"I-" she was not sure how to respond to that. "Thanks?"

"You saved us!" Lily rejoiced. "Thank you! I-I thought it was over..."

Veira smiled and nodded. "We can't celebrate yet..." she said, grimly. "That armour was a trap designed to attack intruders. I'm positive there will be more."

They both grimaced, but they understood.

"I-I'll fight if I have to," Lily said, fear behind her voice. "I won't let them stop us that easily."

"Lily-" Jowan began, but she shushed him.

"Only if it comes to that," Veira said, looking at the armour. She cast a reversal spell on the ice, and it evaporated into the air. The spell that moved the armour had been broken, so she walked over to it without fear. She pried the sword out of the armours stiff fingers, then handed it to Lily. "Just in case, alright?"

Lily clutched the sword fearfully, but she nodded, determined to defend her love to the end.

The door opened with no trouble at all. It was unnecessary for Veira to light the torches in the next halls, for this area...glowed a dim blue. Both she and Jowan could detect the feint concentration of magic in these halls, although they could not guess why. All they could do is be even more cautious, as the magic was strong.

For a while, the halls seemed empty. There were no signs of the armour traps, and no guards. They checked every room they could. They looked for any entrance or door that could lead to where the phylacteries were held, but they had no luck. The only thing they were sure about is the magic was getting stronger the further they continued.

"This is very weird," Jowan whispered. "Why haven't we run into any trouble?"

"Perhaps the Maker is guiding us," Lily said hopefully.

"I doubt that," Veira said, but not unkindly. "They could all be concentrated around the-"

That's when an arrow flew past her face.

Her heart racing, she twisted to face the direction the arrow came from. There was one guard standing at the end of the hall, reloading his crossbow.

"Jowan!" she yelled, and he drew his staff. Veira concentrated a cold spell around the crossbow, and succeeded in freezing it. Jowan shot an arcane spell, hitting the guard in the stomach. He yelped, falling backwards at the force of the spell. Careful not to make it too powerful, Veira shot lightning at the disgruntled guard, and then he moved no more. Cautiously, Veira made her way over to the unconscious man, poking him with her staff to make sure he really was asleep. He was not. He made to grab her staff, but Veira reacted too quickly for him, hitting him on the head. He passed out that time.

"Is...is he alright?" Lily asked, worried.

"He's unconscious, but he should be fine. He'll be out for a while."

Lily sighed in relief, but Jowan looked scared.

"We have to kill him."

Veira heard the words, but refused to accept _Jowan _had said them.

Lily didn't handle that very well. "_Jowan_," she trembled, "what are you talking about? We can't-"

"He saw your face, Veira!" Jowan yelled, also trembling. "When he wakes up, they'll know you helped us!"

"I..." He was right. This man would not hesitate to report back to Irving and the Knight-Commander of her deeds. Then she would either be killed or made Tranquil. Both were death sentences.

"No," Lily pleaded. "We cannot kill this man because of us! He was just doing his job, he's innocent!"

Veira felt ill. Lily was also right.

"Lily, they will _kill _her for this. I-I can't live my life in peace knowing that I caused my best friend's murder!"

"I-I know that!" she screamed desperately. "But we-"

"Jowan," Veira said blankly, "it's okay."

He turned to her, confused. "No, it's not! Please, don't-"

"I knew the risks when I agreed to help you," she said swiftly, "and...I can sacrifice my life for my best friend's freedom. I have the right to choose that."

Jowan opened his mouth to respond, but she held up her hand. "Let's go." She turned her back on them, not letting them see the fear on her face.

"Come with us!"

She paused, then turned back to him. "W-what?"

"When we escape," he said desperately, "come with us, Veira."

She fought back the urge to just break into tears right there. "You know what that would mean right?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice straight. "My...my phylactery is in Denerim. They'd...hunt us down. You'd never have the life you want."

"I-I know," he admitted, "but please don't say you are okay with dying for us, when you're not. I...I don't care if we run for the rest of our lives, we'll be alive! Together, the three of us! And if we have to...we'll break into Denerim and destroy your phylactery too!" He went over to her, holding her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Please, Veira, don't throw your life away. I'll never forgive myself if you do."

"Jowan..." Veira looked at Lily. She was crying lightly, but she smiled at her and nodded. Looking down, Veira wiped away a tear of her own and nodded. "Thank you."

And with that, they continued on their way, their resolve stronger than before.

* * *

There were more armour traps as they continued, and a few more guards as well. Together, they managed to destroy the armours quickly enough, and Veira's lightning put the guards out of commission with no excessive damage. Eventually, they came across a room where they were positive the strong magic was coming from. Veira hesitated.

"Well," she shrugged, "it's either a trap, or it's not."

"There's no where else to go," Jowan said. "so let's pray it's not a trap."

She opened the door carefully. There were no traps set off in the doorway, thank the Maker. They eased their way inside, looking around. There were statues everywhere, and countless items and research just sitting around. When they were satisfied that the room was trap free, they explored for a bit. The magic was definitely coming from this room, and it seemed it wasn't limited to just one object.

"There's something odd about that statue..." Jowan said, standing in front of a woman shaped statue. It seemed to be a warrior, as it held a spear and stood strong and proud. And there was something...odd about it, Jowan was right. It felt...unsettling, though she could not say why.

"It's sort of creepy," Veira said.

"I'll have to agree with you on that one," Jowan nodded.

_Greetings._

They both jumped.

"M-maker's breath!" Jowan squeaked, "did that statue just talk?!"

_I am the essence and spirit of Eleni Zinova, _the statue said in a clear, feminine voice, _once consort and adviser to Archon Velarius. Prophecy my crime, cursed to stone for foretelling the fall of my lord's house._

"Archon...Velarius?" Veira breathed. That was very familiar.

'_Forever shall you stand on the threshold of my proud fortress,' he said, 'and tell your lies to all that pass.' But my lord found death at the hands of his enemies, and his once proud fortress crumbled to dust, as I foretold. _

Lily gasped. "A Tevinter statue!"

Tevinter? Now _that _wasn't good at all.

"How did they do this?" Veira asked. "Is she still alive?"

_Weep not for me child. Stone they made me and stone I am, eternal and unfeeling. And I shall endure, until the Maker returns and lights their fires again._

Veira shuddered. That sounded like she was Tranquil.

"We shouldn't be talking to it!" Lily protested. "Tevinter is a wicked place!"

"Y-yes," Veira said, though she was morbidly curious about the statue and what it meant. "We have a lot to do."

"Come on, Jowan." Lily said, tugging Jowan's sleeve.

"It doesn't look like there's another door out of here," Veira frowned, looking around the room. "I think...we'll have to make one."

"I don't know if the rod has that much power..." Jowan said slowly, "but maybe there's something here that could amplify it..."

"W-we shouldn't use anything from Tevinter!" Lily reminded them.

"I don't think we have much of a choice..."

"Come on," Veira interrupted, "let's keep looking around."

Had this been a completely different situation, Veira would have loved to stay here for hours studying. For goodness sake, there were _books _lying around, just waiting to be read. Oh, she was certain there were terrible things in these books, but that didn't make them any less fascinating. But there was no time. They quickly searched, looking for anything that could help them.

"Hey," Jowan called, "what do you think this is?"

He stood near a statue of a dog, a mabari. Ferelden was famous for putting mabari statues basically everywhere in the country, considering their history. Dogs were highly valued here, though Veira hadn't seen an actual dog since she was a child of the Alienage. There was something...strange about the statue though. Hopefully it wouldn't start barking at them.

"Wait, I recognize this!" Jowan blurted out, obviously excited. "These...these can be used to increase spellpower! See the inscriptions on it? I'm sure of it!"

Veira looked over the writings, and recognized it as well. Her heart bean to pound. This was the way through the wall. The statue was facing the wall that lead to the next part of the repository, and hopefully, where the phylacteries were kept. There was a bookshelf covering the way.

"Come on, let's move that bookshelf. Help me."

There was an obvious joke about this situation. Two mages pushing and pulling a large bookshelf, and doing rather poorly. It was not a secret that mages tended to be...physically weaker than most. There really never is a need for them to be any stronger. Usually the heaviest things they carried were books and...well. Books. By the time the bookshelf slowly slid over, both Veira and Jowan were red in the face and sweating.

"We will never speak of this again," Jowan said.

"Agreed."

Lily could no longer keep her laughter inside. The two mages pouted at her.

"_Anyway," _Veira interrupted, "let's go destroy this wall."

She positioned the rod above the head of the statue. "We'll need to prepare to run. Someone...will hear this."

"We can't turn back now," Jowan said.

Veira nodded, and activated the rod. The statue increased the power exponentially, the stream of fire now turning into a giant fireball. When the fireball hit the wall, the resulting force almost knocked them over. Dust and debris covered the room, but when it settled, Veira saw the hole in the wall.

"Come on, let's go!" she shouted. They broke into a run, frantically searching every room as quick as they could, and leaving just as quick. But they were in the right part of the repository, that much they knew. They had to fight a few more battles, but their drive at being so close to their goal finished them faster.

Her breath caught in her throat when they entered a room with shelves full of bottles with red liquid in them.

"We did it," Jowan gaped, his voice full of disbelief.

"Hurry," Lily said, desperate, "we need to find it."

Jowan's phylactery was on the desk in the middle of the room. It had been placed there to be taken later, when they were planning to do the Rite, probably. It was labeled with his name, the date in which the blood was taken, and that he was human. His hand shook as he grabbed it.

He stared at it for a few moments. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but the words never came out. Then, he raised the vial above his head, and flung it to the floor with all his strength. The phylactery shattered into a thousand shards, the blood splattering.

"It's so weird," he said, breathlessly and distant, "that that tiny little thing held so much power over me. But now...I'm free."

_Jowan...? _

"Come...come on," Veira said nervously, "we still have time before the Templars react to the explosion. We have to go, now."

Jowan blinked at her, then nodded. They ran towards the door that was locked from the other side. Lily told them as they ran that it would open from this side because the enchantment should only apply to the way in. Veira's heart pounded in her head, to the point in which the thumps was all she could hear. They were going to leave the Circle. All of them. They were going to live in the outside, probably on the run for the rest of their lives. But it didn't matter. She couldn't think of anyone else she'd want to live with. People may brand her apostate, but it was worth it if it meant she could live with family again.

_Stay away from us! _a familiar voice called, _Don't come anywhere near us, you...you monster!_

Veira shook her head, willing that voice out of her head. She never had to think about it ever again.

They reached the door. They all smiled at each other, their future ahead of them.

_Idiot, _her own voice scolded her. _There was no way this would work._

The Templars were waiting for them when they opened the door.

* * *

"So what you said was true Irving," the Knight-Commander said coldly.

"G-gregor..." Lily quaked.

Veira froze, her mind blank. Irving stood beside the Knight-Commander, silently gazing at her with hidden fury behind his eyes.

"I am...disappointed in you, child," he said calmly, but Veira knew better. "You could have told me of this plot, but you didn't."

It sounded like just a scolding, but it was the most painful thing Irving could have said to her.

"Hrph," the Knight-Commander scoffed, "an initiate assisting a bloodmage." He studied Lily closely. "It doesn't look like she's being mind controlled. You were right, she did this willingly." He glared at her. "The Chantry will not let this go, girl."

Lily trembled. The Knight-Commander shifted his glare to Veira. "And this one," he said, disgusted. "Newly a full mage and already betraying everything she was taught. Disgraceful."

"Indeed," Irving agreed, sadly. Veira held back a sob.

"You don't care about mages!" Jowan yelled. "You never have. All you care about is pleasing the damned Chantry, bowing to their every whim!"

"J-jowan," Lily begged, "please don't make this worse..."

"Enough!" the Knight-Commander pressed. "As the Knight-Commander of this Circle, I hereby sentence this bloodmage to death. And this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."

"B-but," Lily pleaded, "Aeonar...the prison for mages...please, please _no..._" The Templars ignored her cries, moving closer.

"No!" Jowan screamed, furious, "I won't let you take her!"

What happened next was something Veira will never forget. Jowan drew a knife, slicing the flesh of his hand, drawing a lot of blood. The blood spread unnaturally, it pulsated like magic. It grew and grew in seconds, and the power from it was...horrifying. He released it upon the Templars and Irving, slicing through them like a dozen knives. The force of the magic threw them to the ground, bleeding.

Veira, in the first time in all her life, was absolutely terrified of her best friend.

"N-no," Lily shuddered, her face completely white, "Jowan...you..you said you'd never! Blood magic is evil, corrupts people!"

Jowan looked as if she had slapped him in the face.

"I-I dabbled in the forbidden arts, I know," Jowan sobbed, moving towards her, "but I swear I'll never use it again. I don't care about magic or anything about it anymore! I'll give it all up! I just want to be with you, Lily, please!"

Lily stepped backwards, shaking her head and sobbing as well. "I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you...sacrifice everything..." she cried, "but I-I don't know who you are, bloodmage. Stay away from me!"

"N-no, Lily-"

"Stay. Back." She raised the sword she held, shaking as she stared him down with a glare.

Jowan turned to Veira desperately, his face completely wet. But all he found was a look of horror. Shutting his eyes in pain, he turned and ran as fast as he could. She watched his back disappear into the dark corridors.

Groans awoke her from her frozen stare. "Irving!" she cried, running to his side. He was bleeding heavily, and she immediately began to heal him. The Knight-Commander awoke, still groggy. His injuries were not as severe as Irving's, as the Templar armour took most of the damage. When his eyes focused, all he could see was a suspect casting something on Irving.

Getting to his feet and grabbing his sword, he yelled "You! Get away from-"

"_Don't," _Veira screamed, "don't interrupt me, I have to heal him!"

He stopped, realizing was the warm green light really was. Irving's cuts began to mend, enough that the bleeding stopped. Irving groaned and shifted, opening a tired eye. "Nnng, child?"

Veira smiled, relieved. "Irving, are you alright?"

"Y-yes, somehow. Are you hurt?"

"Oh, thank the Maker..." she breathed. She started to shake, thinking of Jowan. "H-he lied to me...but I'm unhurt."

In a manner of speaking, anyway.

"Maker's breath, the damage he caused..." the Knight-Commander said, "I never though he'd be able to..."

Irving groaned, trying to get up. Veira offered an arm, and she helped him stand. "None of us suspected this. Are you alright, Gregor?" Irving asked.

"As good as I can be, considering," the Knight-Commanders face twisted into anger, "and now we have a bloodmage on the loose and no way to track him! If you had let me act as I should have-" He shook his head. "Where is the girl?"

"I-I'm here, Knight-Commander," Lily shook, terrified.

"You helped a bloodmage! Look at all he's hurt!"

"Lily didn't know he was a bloodmage!" Veira yelled.

"I-it's okay," Lily said weakly, "you've been a friend, but you don't need to protect me. I...assisted a bloodmage, and I'll accept any punishment you see fit."

"Take her away!" the Knight-Commander ordered. Then, he turned to Veira. "And _you," _he snarled, "your antics have made a mockery of everything the Circle stands for, and don't you dare think you'll get away with it!"

"None of us knew that Jowan was a bloodmage," Veira said, hollow. It didn't matter what she said. Gregor would never let this go, and there was only so much Irving could protect. She had let herself be ...tricked by a bloodmage, assisted his escape. There was only one punishment that Gregor would accept.

"And you think that excuses you?" he yelled. "No, you will not-"

"If I may, Knight-Commander," a cool voice said. "I have a solution." It was the Grey Warden, Duncan.

"This does not concern you," the Knight-Commander snapped.

"Oh, it does," Duncan said. "Not only am I looking for mages to join our army, I am also looking for Grey Warden recruits. This mage is very strong, as Irving has told me, and it takes a special courage to stand up for a friend like she did, knowing she could lose everything."

"No." Gregor's face turned purple. "No, you are not taking this one."

Veira looked at Duncan blankly. "I-I'm sorry, ser," she muttered, "but I...assisted a bloodmage. I...need to accept my punishment." Like a good little mage, right?

"Hmmn," the Knight-Commander said, surprised. "It seems you do remember at least some of your teachings. She knows her place."

"Don't be a fool!" Duncan scolded. "What do you think awaits you here, now that you helped a bloodmage?"

Veira grimaced. "Tranquility?"

"A waste of your gift!" Duncan scoffed. "I offer you something more."

"Duncan," Irving said slowly, "this mage has assisted a maelificar, and shown an utter lack of respect for the rules of the Circle."

The blood drained for her face. Not only was Jowan lost to her, Irving was too.

"You cannot let this one slip from us," the Knight-Commander warned, "I will not allow this."

"Then I invoke the Right of Conscription," Duncan stated cooly.

"No!" the Knight-Commander screamed.

"The...?" Veira began. She had never heard of such a thing.

Irving sighed. "Duncan has the right to forcefully conscript anyone into the Grey Wardens. We must comply."

She couldn't believe it. She was being forced to join the Grey Wardens, leave the tower. To fight darkspawn. She didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

"Gregor, you know this world is plagued with things worse than bloodmages, and mages are needed," Duncan said, "I will take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions."

"A bloodmage escaped, and his accomplice is not only not punished, but is rewarded by becoming a Grey Warden!" the Knight-Commander said through gritted teeth. "Are our roles nothing? Are all the rules that keep this world safer all for nothing? This does not bode well, Irving."

"Enough," Irving sighed, and to Veira, it almost sounded like he was...relieved. "We have nothing more we can do now."

"Am I to leave the Circle forever, then?" Veira asked Irving. Would he be happy or sad about it?

"Yes," he nodded. "Be happy, child, for you are luckier than you know."

"I-" she hesitated, not sure what to say. It was likely she would never see him again, and it was only now that she realized she had never thanked Irving for all he'd ever done for her. All the lessons, the support he'd given her all these years. And she had so easily cast it back in his face by what she did. She'd regret that for the rest of her life. "Thank you for everything, First Enchanter," she smiled, then looked down. "And...I am sorry."

She didn't get a chance to see Irving's face. "Come," Duncan said. "Your new life awaits." She turned to walk away, only raising her head when her back was facing her old life.


	5. To Ostagar

Duncan allowed Veira to return to her room to gather a few things before they left. She tried not to dwell on her surroundings too much; there were a few mages still lingering, but they obviously did not know what happened yet. Though she didn't need to worry about them talking to her, they were content to leave her alone, as they assumed she was moving her things to the upper level. How very wrong they were.

Sifting through her wooden chest, she only selected things that she absolutely needed. An extra pair of clothes other than her mage robe, seeing as it would be much easier, not to mention safer, if she looked like...a normal everyday person. She packed her nightgown, a cloak, self-care items, but most importantly, her spellbook. She could continue to learn new spells without a teacher, although it would take longer to master. But against darkspawn, she needed all the spells to could get.

She dug through her personal collection of books. It was devastating that she could not bring all of them; there were way too many to carry, so she had to choose a few wisely. She chose mostly history books, in case she needed them as a Grey Warden. But she could not pass up bringing her favourite non-academic story, a tale about a handsome and brave trickster who found himself having to save the world. Perhaps she could relate to it somewhat now.

Last, but not least, she packed her very own teapot and cup, both gifts from Irving a long time ago. She reasoned that they would be the touch of home in her travels, but honestly she could not bear to leave them behind. She still had various tealeaves that she stuffed into the teapot, and with that, lifted her pack over her head and joined Duncan in the hallway.

Her head pounded as they descended the stairs. As difficult as it was, she kept her thoughts away from Jowan and what happened. Instead, she concentrated on leaving the tower, and facing the world outside it. She could still somewhat remember what it was like, the Alienage mostly, and the trip to the Circle when she was seven. But other than that, Ferelden would be completely new.

She held her breath when they reached the doorway out. She wondered what Lake Calenhad looked like at ground level instead of seeing it from a window high up in the tower. Did it change at all these thirteen years, or would it be different simply because she was much older? The Templars guarding the door nodded at Duncan, opening the large door for him. It felt like the door took hours to open; much more impatient than she thought she was. Her lips parted slightly, taking the scene in. The first thing Veira saw was miles of impossibly black water reflecting the stars in the night sky. It was as if there were two skies, the moon illuminating them both with a bright, beautiful light. There were no clouds nor ripples in the water to disrupt them. She had never seen such a sight before, even from her window. She couldn't help but stare, entranced.

But it was the cool gaze of the Templars that urged her to keep moving.

She tried to take it all in as she walked, like the feel of gravel under her feet instead of stone floor, and the slight chill of the air. But outside at the docks, there were several Templars in a panic, shouting at each other.

"-ow could you let him escape?! Where could he have gone?"

"I don't know! Erik said he found a Templar stuffed in a room without any armour. He...he must have taken it and pretended to be a Templar-"

"Idiots! Spread out and see if you can find him! Knight-Commander says kill him if he tries anything!"

Her heart caught in her throat. Did she want him to be caught, or was she relieved that he got away? She watched hopelessly as Templars spread out, a few running past her. What did she truly wish?

"It is not your concern any longer," Duncan reminded her.

"I-" she paused, then nodded. "Yes, I know."

"Good." He talked to the harbour master to get a ferry. He was met with resistance because of the Templars, but Duncan definitely had a talent for convincing people to heed his words. They boarded one of the ferry's quickly, under the condition they bring along one of the Templars, much to Veira's delight. She was sad when the ferry began to move across the lake and the tiny waves broke apart the reflection of the sky.

The trip across the lake took several hours, all of it spent in silence. She couldn't stop thinking about Jowan now, thanks to the panic at the docks. She wasn't sure if he could get far, even if he was disguised as a Templar. Was it possible to swim across the lake by yourself, without being noticed? There had been a mage, his name Andy or something starting with an A, that managed to escape the tower multiple times but was always caught before he got too far. Maybe that would be Jowan too, except he wouldn't be given a second chance.

She barely registered the ferry reaching the shore. It was the Templar who tugged at her arm to get her attention. She gave him a surprised look, and he motioned for her to get up. She quickly gathered her things, rushing past him to catch up with Duncan. He said he needed to purchase some supplies from the inn by the docks, and Veira told him that she would stay out here. She turned to look at the tower while she waited. It was still massive, even from this distance. It was dark at this hour, all the lights inside gone for the night, the last of those who stay up late finally gone to bed. For some reason, she felt a longing for the Circle already. Perhaps it was just a longing for familiarity and simplicity, as she had no idea what her life would be like from now on. She could very easily die in the war, killed by monsters that wouldn't give it a second thought. But then, if she lived, the Grey Wardens would be her home, and that wasn't such a terrible thought.

"One day, you may see the tower again," a calm voice said behind her. Duncan joined her at the edge of the coast. "Duty may dictate you to return here, if for a short while."

She smiled at him. She knew he was trying to comfort her. "Perhaps I will take your job, to find recruits."

He chuckled, a pleasant sound coming from such a gruff and serious person. "Perhaps."

She took one last look at the tower, her glorious, beautiful prison that raised her to be the person she was today, then followed Duncan up the road.

* * *

They traveled mostly in silence. After about a couple of hours, they set up camp in a nice area amongst the trees, but open enough to see the starry sky. She started a campfire with a snap of her fingers, but that was the extent of magic she could do that day; she was exhausted by the long walk. Sitting at the fire, Duncan dug out some bread and cheese, offering her a share. She took it gratefully, only now realizing how empty her stomach was. For a while they ate quietly, but Veira found the silence unnerving, and an invitation to thoughts she did not want to keep agonizing over. It was time to ask questions only Grey Wardens could answer.

"What's it like, fighting darkspawn?"

He studied her, thoughtfully munching his bread. "I will not lie to you," he said, "they are unlike anything you've ever encountered before. They are evil creatures, they cannot be reasoned with, they do not show mercy. And they are much more dangerous now, with an impending Blight."

She had difficulty swallowing her bread. A fear not unlike the kind she felt before her Harrowing welled inside. She was likely heading to her untimely death as a Grey Warden. But at the very least, she had fought a monster before. "Well," she chuckled weakly, "at least they don't try to posses your body and use you to see the world through your eyes."

"Have you fought many demons?" he asked.

"Mmm," she mumbled, "just the one. And he wasn't actually that strong."

"Perhaps he was, and you are just forgetting your own strength," Duncan stated, taking another bite.

She blushed slightly at the compliment. "Perhaps," she smiled.

"But I warn you," Duncan said gravely, "darkspawn are worse than demons."

A chill ran down her spine. "W-what do you mean?" Her lessons had beat it into her head that there was nothing worse than demons.

"It's best not to dwell on it for now," Duncan sighed. "Try to get some sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Where are we headed, exactly?" she asked, trying to put the darkspawn out of her mind.

"We will be traveling south, to the Kokari Wilds. The king's army is staying at the fortress of Ostagar, where we have fought several battles against the darkspawn, and it's there we will make our last stand against the horde."

"Ostagar...the ancient Tevinter fortress?"

"Yes. A fitting place to fight for Ferelden's future." He finished off his meal. "Now please, try to rest. It will take at least a week and a half to reach Ostagar."

She nodded slowly, setting up her bedroll. She did not bother to let her hair down or change or anything, she was honestly too tired. Her thoughts still spun with darkspawn and Jowan before she nodded off into a deep sleep.

* * *

Their travels at the beginning went by without much drama. Veira had stopped wearing her mage robe in favour for the normal clothing she packed, after an incident with an ignorant and fearful merchant on the road, and she pretended her staff was just a walking stick. Duncan kept to himself mostly, though Veira did find out that he was from Highever, and that his mother was from Rivain thanks to one night when he asked if she still had family left. It was not a topic she liked to talk about, but it was interesting to hear about Duncan. But even though she didn't know much about him, she still enjoyed his company quite a bit, quiet as he was. It was his presence that set her at ease; maybe he had a contagious calm that affected everyone via proximity. It was a talent.

Unfortunately, their luck changed with a raging storm. Massive rain, powerful winds and a brewing thunderstorm forced them to look for a place that had an indoors. Thankfully, Duncan knew of a village that was close, called Redcliff. When they reached the village, Veira had never been so happy to see lights coming from inside a building before. Completely soaked through and freezing, they were greeted by some unlucky on-duty guards at the gates.

"You've business in Redcliff, ser?" one yelled. He had to in order to be heard at all.

"Just the business of seeking refuge for a night," Duncan replied, and although his voice was loud, it didn't seem like he was yelling. She wondered if Duncan _could _yell.

"Just you and your servant?"

Veira gripped her sleeves. This had happened before, and she didn't know what was worse; a grown man screaming about mages or being confused of being an elven servant.

Before Duncan could correct the fellow, the other guard interrupted him. "Herv, you ass, don't you remember him? He's the Grey Warden that took Jory! She's probably a recruit!"

"Andraste's flaming sword, you're right!" the guard named Herv yelled, then he looked embarrassed. "Er, p-pardon me, my lady, that was-"

"It's fine," she interrupted, tired of being pelted by huge raindrops, "as long as we go _inside!"_

"R-right," he coughed, "the tavern is still open, and there should be rooms left. Unless you'd prefer to stay in the castle, sers?"

"The tavern will be fine," Duncan said firmly.

The guards led them down the hill and across a small bridge with a raging waterfall beneath it. The tavern was at the end of the hill, and the village was below, understandably empty at the moment.

The tavern was very welcoming and charming. Several levels high, with balcony's for the rooms, and a warm inviting light radiating from the wood, in this weather it seemed a heaven more than anything else. When Duncan opened the door, the warmth felt like a hot summers afternoon, aided with the scent of ale and smoke.

A large man behind the bar looked up, his eyes brightening at his new customers. "Ah, welcome, welcome!" he said jovially, then he twisted his head towards a red-headed woman cleaning the tables, and barked a "Bella! Get your lil' butt into action girl! We have a few soaked customers that need seeing to!"

"That's very kind of you ser, but it is not ne-" Duncan began.

"Nonsense!" the owner grinned. "You are dripping! And I will not allow my customers to catch a cold! Bella! Hurry with the towels, girl!"

"Yes sir," she called back, towels in her arms. She looked at Veira and smiled kindly, then eyed Duncan very...interestingly. She tossed a towel in the direction of Veira, which landed nicely on her face. Bella then proceeded to wipe away the rain off Duncan, concentrating mostly on his face, who was growing quite...uncomfortable. Veira eyed him from the corner of her eye where she could still see. Thanks to the towel, she was able to hide her laughter.

Duncan cleared his throat. "Er, thank you miss," he said while taking the towel from her. He moved quickly towards the owner, and Bella pouted a little. Veira grabbed the towel from her face and began drying her face and hair, while watching Duncan try to avoid contact with everyone besides the owner. It was ridiculously funny and cute, a word she never thought she'd associate with Duncan of all people.

Duncan could only afford one room with two beds. After a few...assumptions of their relationship to each other that were shortly corrected, Veira and Duncan made their way upstairs, to a nicely sized room for two with their own personal bathroom and balcony. Veira changed into her nightgown first, and was relieved to discover her books were only slightly damp, and not at all ruined. While Duncan changed, Veira sprawled on her bed. Maker, it was nice to have a mattress again. Of course when Duncan returned in much simpler clothes, she was sitting proper and reading a book.

There was a knock on the door, and Bella emerged with a tray of two bowls filled with stew.

"I hope you are hungry," she smiled, placing the tray on a dresser.

Duncan looked exasperated, but he quickly hid it to be polite. "Thank you miss, but I cannot afford any-"

"Oh, don't be silly ser!" she sang, looking him up and down. "On the house. I hope it warms you up!"

"Ah," Duncan smiled nervously. "That is very generous of you. We greatly appreciate it."

"Think nothing of it." she said sweetly, bowing. She turned away towards the door, and Veira saw the blush on Bella's face deepen before closing the door behind her. It was her turn to grin at Duncan.

"Thank you, ser. This looks fantastic."

He frowned at her. "Why are you thanking me?"

She giggled. "You know why."

He grumbled to himself, taking a bowl. Still grinning, she took her share, instantly warming up when the hot stew filled her mouth. By the time she was half way finished, Duncan was still brooding. She decided not to keep torturing the poor man, so she took the opportunity to talk about something he liked. So basically, Grey Warden things.

"I'm curious, that guard mentioned you were here before, and took someone named Jory? Is he at Ostagar already?"

His face shifted back to his default calm, relieved she had dropped the Bella thing. "Yes, I recruited him not too long ago. There is another recruit as well, from Denerim."

"All this traveling for three new recruits? Aren't there more Grey Wardens that could help you?"

"There are certainly more Grey Wardens," he sighed, "but they need to stay at Ostagar. The army needs as many as they can there, in case of a darkspawn attack. But we still need more. Though three new ones isn't very many, that is true."

Finishing her stew, she placed her empty bowl back on the tray, then hugged her knees. "I assume you cannot recruit just anyone. Is the ability to fight the only requirement?"

"Correct, not everyone can be recruited," he replied, "but your ability is not the only thing we look for. We look for not just physical strength, but strength of mind, of character. Grey Wardens must be strong in every way...for various reasons." He did not elaborate on that. "But these qualities may differ from what many expect. We do not turn away criminals, barbarians, assassins. Anyone who has the strength and will to fight."

Veira was surprised at that. Grey Wardens were always described as hero's, so she never thought they could be criminals. But, it did make sense, and it certainly wasn't impossible. "And I had those qualities?"

"Irving spoke very highly of you, and I trust him and his ability to judge another."

She felt a twinge of guilt. Irving had been wrong about her. "I...I can fight, and I'm a good mage. But if he thought anything else of me, I destroyed that throughly."

Duncan watched her, his expression changing to a mixture of concern and sympathy. "Perhaps you did," he said calmly, making the guilt felt worse. "But I do not doubt that he understands why you did what you did. You stood up for your friend, against an injustice that would have ended his life. He may not agree, but he understands."

"But Jowan is a bloodmage," she said numbly.

"A fact that you did not know, that he hid from you well. You are no longer a Circle mage, but a Grey Warden. We are not the Chantry. Your past decisions are no longer relevant to your future."

"I...I will try..."

"You will have to. Darkspawn are your only concern now."

Duncan finished his stew, and right on cue, there was another knock on the door. Bella returned, smiling brightly, and Duncan had to stop himself from recoiling. It was no longer funny to Veira. Darkspawn are their only concern. She started to feel bad for Bella.

"Finished already?" she asked pleasantly, "I hope you liked it!"

"Yes it was very good," Duncan smiled, "but forgive me my lady, my companion and I must get some rest. We still have a long journey ahead."

"O-oh, yes of course!" Bella smiled back, hiding her disappointment not very well. "I will get this out of the way then!" She grabbed the tray, gave him one last sad smile, then closed the door behind her.

They spoke no more of Grey Wardens and Jowan; Duncan eventually settled and fell asleep. Veira read one of her books for a while, listening to the storm outside at the same time. It was a long time before she too fell asleep, thinking of nothing but the monsters to come once again.

* * *

When they awoke in the morning, they happily found out the storm had passed. Duncan wanted to waste no more time than was necessary, so they quickly got ready and headed for the door. Redcliff was full of deep puddles, which small children used as a playground, to their parents dismay. Regardless, Redcliff shone in the sunlight, beaming with life. Soldiers practiced their archery by the nearby Chantry, merchants and everyday townsfolk interacted without a care in the world. It was a lovely little village, to be sure.

When they had said their brief goodbyes and headed down the road, Bella ran after them, waving her hands like a maniac and yelling for them to wait.

"Wait...please sers," she panted, "I think I can help you!"

"_Miss," _Duncan almost hissed, "I'm afraid we must be on our wa-"

"There's a man," he insisted, still out of breath, "named Fred who's taking a cart to Denerim. I asked him if he could take you, that's in the direction you're going right? He said he would."

"Ah," Duncan said, surprised. "That...would indeed help the time we lost..."

"Really?" Bella's face lit right up. "I'll go fetch him!"

She returned with an elderly man guiding his horse, stopping it right next to the two Wardens. The cart was full of supplies, all in wooden boxes. There was enough room for the two of them, though a little cramped. Veira would not complain, her feet still hadn't fully recovered from the previous few days of constant walking.

"Thank you for everything, my lady." Duncan bowed.

"Bella," she smiled. "You can call me Bella." She waved as the cart began to move. "Come back anytime, ser!"

Bella finally broke through Duncan's icy demeanour; he chuckled slightly and waved back to her. Veira smiled and waved goodbye too, as the red head disappeared into the distance.

The road was bumpy and slippery thanks to the storm, but the ride was rather peaceful and allowed for her to regain her strength. She wondered why Ferelden's didn't ride horses everywhere, which sparked a conversation with Fred. He informed her that riding horses was just too much of a reminder of when Orlais ruled over Ferelden. They had a few nice conversations with him about Ferelden, a welcome distraction as they drew closer and closer to where the war was. The scenery changed the closer they got, or perhaps atmosphere was a better word. It felt colder, quieter. It was very unnerving, knowing there was an army of darkspawn somewhere in the woods nearby. Duncan was the one most affected by it. He barely spoke a word to either of them, no longer his usual calm. He was on edge, constantly alert.

After two days of travel, they reached a road that went straight into the heart of the forest. Duncan and Veira unloaded off the cart, saying a fond farewell to their chauffeur. They stayed on the road, not straying too deep into the wood. They did not light any fires when they camped, just in case of stragglers. She was relieved when she saw signs of life again in the distance, after a few days walk. She could see smoke above the trees; and heard the sounds of people together, peacefully thank the Maker. It wasn't too long before she saw the fortress itself.

Ancient, and obviously weathered over the hundreds of years it stood, Ostagar was even more impressive than the Circle Tower. She could see a massive tower in the distance, mentally laughing at the irony of escaping one tower just to arrive at a new one. As they approached a massive bridge, they were taken aback at a bunch of men coming towards them, one in particular at the front who was wearing golden armour. He had a bright face, grinning from ear to ear as he approached.

"Duncan!" he called, reaching out to shake his hand.

"King Cailan?" Duncan responded, his voice full of surprise.

Veira balked. Maker's Breath, that was the _king of Ferelden. _


	6. First Task

It was in this moment that Veira felt incredibly small. No, it wasn't because elves tended to be shorter than humans. Oh, no. Just a few feet from her, stood the most important leader in the entire country; gleaming in his armour and shaking the hand of the man who saved her life and was the Commander of the Grey Wardens. And then there was her. A disgraced mage newly out of her apprenticeship, who had only experienced actual daylight straight for about a week and a few days. She wasn't sure if she should bow, say something, anything. So, to play it safe, she opted to stand completely still and not make eye contact until prompted. You never knew with human nobles.

"This is a surprise," Duncan went on, "I didn't expect a-"

"A royal welcome?" King Cailan grinned. "I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!"

"Not if I can help it, your majesty." Duncan said, clearly uncomfortable. The king didn't notice.

Cailan beamed. "Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side after all! Glorious!"

Veira raised an eyebrow. What...was he an idiot? She understood that it was a good thing to have Duncan here in the battle, but the king sounded like a child, gleeful that he had found his favourite toy. Wasn't there a war going on?

Cailan turned to Veira, a goofy smile forming on his face. "The other Wardens told me you found a promising recruit. I take it this is she?"

"Allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty-"

The king cut him off. "There's no need to be so formal, Duncan. We'll all be shedding blood together soon enough." He tipped his head slightly. "Ho there, friend. Might I ask your name?"

Well. At least he was polite.

"My name is Veira, Your Majesty." she said, bowing her head much deeper.

"Pleased to meet you! I am to believe you hail from the Circle, yes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Excellent! Mages are what win wars, although the Chantry sure hates that!" He let out a bellowing laugh. "I trust you have a lot of powerful spells at your disposal?"

"I-er," she stumbled. "I'll do my best, Your Majesty."

"Good, good!" he laughed again, then turned back to Duncan. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I must return. Loghain eagerly awaits to bore me with strategy plans..."

Veira's eyebrow twitched. Strategy plans that would save lives, and he was worried that it would _bore_ him? She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliff forces could be here in less than a week..." Duncan began.

For the first time since she met him, the king frowned. "Hmpf. Eamon just wants in on the glory!"

Veira looked at their leader incredulously. Maker's Breath, he was serious too.

"Besides," he continued, "we've already won three battles against the monsters, and tomorrow will be no different."

Oh. That was...surprising. She looked at Duncan. "I had no idea the battle was going so well."

"I'm not even sure this is a true Blight," Cailan said, turning his back on them. "There have been plenty of darkspawn, but we've seen no signs of an archdemon..."

"Disappointed, Your Majesty?" Duncan asked cooly.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales..." Cailan said, "you know, a king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god. But I suppose this will have to do."

Veira rarely screamed at people in anger. In fact, she had never done so before, but it was at this point that she had to hold herself back from ripping into this...this utter moron that somehow commands the entire army.

"Now, I really must go, before Loghain sends out a search party," the king said, sighing. "Farewell, Grey Wardens."

Hating the fact that she had to still be polite, she crossed her arms in a formal bow, as did Duncan while the king turned to walk away. She was still seething when Duncan spoke to her.

"What the king said is true..." he said, "we have won several battles against the darkspawn."

"He didn't seem to take the darkspawn very seriously..." she said, holding back.

"Hrm," he grunted in agreement, "true." He gestured for her to continue walking with him. She followed him towards the bridge.

"Despite the victories, the darkspawn army grows with each passing day," he continued, "by now they look to outnumber us."

If that was the case, then why was the king so adamant about keeping his uncle's army out of the war? It didn't make sense!

"I know an Archdemon is behind this, but I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling."

"Is there a way to convince him to bring Redcliff's soldiers here?" Veira asked desperately.

"I'm afraid not." Duncan sighed. "The king is...stubborn. And...over-eager."

"Over-eager to get his army killed?" she snarled.

He raised a hand. "I know how you feel," he said, "but there's nothing I can do. We still have a large army, and we have been victorious."

"Then I suppose we should move quickly." She shook her head.

"I agree," Duncan nodded. "We should proceed with the ritual as soon as possible."

"Ritual?" Veira asked. "You never mentioned a ritual."

"So you would not agonize over it while we traveled," he admitted. "Feel free to use the camp as you wish, all I ask of you is not to leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it's time to bring the other recruits, and we shall begin."

She nodded, feeling quite nervous now. She thought she was done with rituals like her Harrowing, but it seemed like the Maker just loved messing with her. Duncan went about to his business, but Veira stayed behind a bit longer, peering out over the bridge to the field and forest below. It seemed a fitting place for a battle, _the_ battle that she would be a part of. She wondered if by tomorrow night the field would be her grave, but she forced such thoughts out of her mind. She had to remain focused. The tower she saw before was behind her, and she felt no urge to explore another tower for now. She continued her way across the stone bridge, into the massive white fortress.

The guard at the entrance greeted her, figuring out she was the new recruit. She nodded a hello, but she was more distracted by the going-ons inside. A large group of soldiers were watching a priest recite a moralizing prayer, some held their heads low in their own solemn thoughts. Many were practicing their fighting skill above, slicing away at dummies while their captain shouted about darkspawn. Higher still, many stood still on their watchtowers, peering over the forest for signs of enemy movement. Servants were plentiful, running back and forth making deliveries and bringing messages. She explored the camp thoroughly, finding a bit of trouble with the quartermaster who assumed she was one of the servants that had his order. She brushed him off quickly, who was _terribly _sorry for the confusion, but she was too tired and hungry to give him a verbal thrashing he so deserved.

She drew closer to where the mabari war-hounds were kept. She was very curious to see one, never once meeting one in person. The Kennel Master seemed anxious, as he stared at one dog in particular with worried eyes and crossed arms. The dog in question was curled up, breathing heavily and twitching every so often. It did not look well.

The Kennel Master noticed Veira watching out of the corner of his eye. "Ah, miss," he called over, "could you help me? Please?"

She blinked, but nodded. "What can I do for you?"

"It's this Mabari-poor fella," he said, "his owner died in the last battle, and he contracted the taint from those monsters. I need him muzzled to treat him properly, and you-I don't recognize you from camp. Are you the new recruit?"

"Ah, yes," she nodded, "but- you are the Kennel Master yes? I've...never even seen a Mabari before. I doubt my skills on muzzling a dog are better than yours."

His eyebrows shot up at the 'never seen a Mabari' part. Then he chuckled. "Riiight, from the Circle. The thing is though, I can't do it because he_ knows _who I am, and I don't want him getting too excited trying to stop me. But, he doesn't know you. All you need to do is let him sniff you, offer him some gentle words, talk to him like you'd talk to anyone, and put it on. If it doesn't work then...I really don't want to have to put him down."

She looked back at the dog. Mabari were especially known for their unquestioning loyalty to those they imprint on. If his owner died, then he must have been terribly hurt and confused, feeling all alone. It was no different than losing a family member, and Mabari had intelligence that rivalled an average person. And now he was dying, from what Veira understood of the darkspawn taint, a slow and very painful death.

"I'll do my best," Veira smiled.

"Wonderful!" The Kennel Master beamed. He handed her a muzzle and unlocked the gate for her. She walked in slowly, not wanting to startle the poor dog. He noticed her right away, his ears perking up. He slowly got to his feet, wobbling and whining as he did. It was hard to see such a strong animal struggle that much, his brown coat matted and muscles that wanted to give away.

"Careful," she said gently, "no need to stand on my account."

The dog cocked his head to the side, letting out a confused whine. Veira saw the intelligence in his eyes, knowing he could understand what she was saying.

"I know that you are very sick, and that you're in pain," she continued, "I want to help."

He barked weakly. Now for the hard part.

"I know it's scary but, I have to put this on you, so you don't hurt yourself." She knelt before him, bringing out the muzzle. He growled at her, but it wasn't strong. He gave up and whined, bowing his head to let her put it on. When she finished, she scratched him behind the ears, smiling. "You'll be alright, I promise."

The dog curled back up, closing his tired eyes. "Well done!" the Kennel Master smiled as she exited the pen. "Now I can start treating our poor friend."

Veira frowned. "Will he live? I thought the darkspawn taint was fatal..."

"Hmm, it can be. That reminds me, are you heading into the Kokari Wilds anytime soon?"

She blinked. With this Warden ritual, who knew what she would be up to in the next few hours. "I might be, why?"

"There's a special flower that I need. The taint in him is still fresh, so there's a chance he will recover. But I need that flower, and it only grows in the forest. It's a white flower, with a red centre. I need to stay here and begin the treatment, and make sure he doesn't get any worse."

"I see..." Veira scratched her cheek. "I will see what I can do. Although this ritual might-"

A loud, rumbling noise interrupted her. Her stomach was finally protesting.

The Kennel Master burst into laughter at the sight of her reddening cheeks. "S'alright lass. You've probably not had the time to eat anything at all. There's a group of Wardens just past the infirmary making supper, that's probably where those other new recruits are. Thank you again, for your help."

She thanked him and made her way towards the infirmary. Several fellow mages were occupied here, healing the many injured soldiers. She had a mind to join them, but feared she would get too distracted by it. She had to concentrate on her job; the ritual, and meeting these new recruits was a part of it. Besides, those soldiers were in good hands already.

Past the infirmary was a large group of men sitting around a fire, a giant pot steaming on top of it. Most of the men, save for two, were silent- concentrating on the bowl of stew that sat in their laps. Only the two were actually talking to each other, and didn't look so solemn. One of them- the younger, clad in leather armour, eyed her as she walked over. He nudged the man beside him, an older fellow in what she recognized as Redcliff armour.

The younger one stood, taking a bow. "Greetings, newbie!" he said cheerfully, looking her up and down. "You sure aren't what I thought you'd be."

"Er..." Veira said cautiously. "What do you mean?"

He grinned, pointing towards the other man. "Me and ser knight over here took a bet on what the third recruit would be. Looks like we were both wrong!"

"Daveth!" the second man scolded, his face sporting a small blush of embarrassment.

"What?" Daveth grinned. "Not allowed to do that? Or just not let her find out that we did? At least I'm honest!"

The other man groaned and put a hand on his forehead. Daveth laughed, then motioned for her to come over. "Come on, sit, sit! Plenty of stew to go 'round."

She hesitated, but these two were definitely her fellow new recruits. She sat down beside Daveth, though keeping a bit of distance. One of the quieter men gave her a bowl filled with stew. She smiled and thanked him. Trying a bite, it wasn't the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, but it was welcome in her empty stomach.

"I guess some introductions are in order, yeah?" Daveth said. "I'm Daveth, from Denerim. My bald friend over here is from Redcliff, a knight named Ser-"

"Jory," he interrupted. "My name is Jory."

"Veira," she said, with a small smile. "Pleased to meet you."

"Sooo," Daveth asked awkwardly, "what are you, exactly? Ooh! Are you a pickpocket, like me?"

"Daveth!" Jory scolded again, looking at Veira's surprised face.

"What?" Daveth laughed, "I'm not insulting her! Nothing to be ashamed of. And all I see is a dress, a walking stick, and a pretty face! Duncan recruited us for a reason, right?"

"Ah," Veira said, not sure if she should laugh or be angry. "I'm from the Circle. I'm not wearing mage robes because most people are nervous around us."

"Ooh, smart," Daveth said, nodding.

Jory agreed. "Having a mage in our ranks is an honour."

Veira beamed. "Thank you."

Daveth leaned over towards her. "So, did Duncan tell you anything about the ritual?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing. I was hoping you two had a better idea, actually."

"I think we'll go into the Wilds," Daveth stated matter-of-factually.

"And how do you know that?" Jory asked.

"I have my reasons." He grinned mischievously, then winked at Veira.

If they were going into the Wilds, then she could find that flower for the Kennel Master. "If we are, then I'm ready."

Jory balked at her. "The Wilds are dangerous, what with the darkspawn everywhere! It's not something you can be 'ready' for!"

She smiled at him. "If it wasn't dangerous, it wouldn't be much of a ritual, would it?"

"I...I suppose." He frowned.

She finished off the last of her stew. It was time to find this Alistair Duncan mentioned. "Do any of you know an Alistair? Duncan told me to find him."

"Last I saw him, he was close-by the Mage Quarter," one of the Wardens said. She nodded and departed, Daveth and Jory heading towards where Duncan stayed, the opposite direction she was going. When she arrived at the Mage Quarter, she found someone she recognized. Wynne, one of the senior Enchanters, was making healing potions when Veira approached. They exchanged a brief, pleasant conversation, then she asked if she had seen Alistair. Wynne pointed behind her, saying she saw him go up the stairs. She made her way in that direction, ascending the not so large steps and found two men having an argument.

"-Her Reverence sent me, ser mage, she desires your presence-" said a young man in armour.

"Tell Her I will not be harassed in this manner! Hasn't the Circle done enough for you Grey Wardens?" the mage replied, seething.

The other man grinned. "Yes, I was harassing you by... delivering a message."

The mage grit his teeth. "You glibness does you no credit."

"And here I thought we were getting along! I was about to name one of my children after you-the grumpy one."

"_Enough_. If the woman wants to see me, I'll go myself." The mage turned and quickly glanced at Veira. His lip curled. "Out of my way, fool." She stepped aside, letting the steaming mage past.

After he was gone, the man grinned. "You know," he said, amused. "One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together. Warms the heart."

She giggled. "I know what you mean."

His grin widened. "It's like a party! We can all sit together in a circle and hold hands. That'd give the darkspawn something to think about."

They laughed, then he blinked at her. "Wait, we haven't met have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?"

"We haven't met, no," she replied, getting a bit apprehensive. Hopefully he didn't hate mages completely. "But I am indeed a mage."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't look like a mage," he became flustered, realizing what he said. "Er..that is...well, how interesting."

Her smile weakened slightly. "I'm not wearing my robes to stay away from trouble as much as possible."

"Oh!" His eyes widened, snapping a finger. "I do know who you are! You're Duncan's new recruit, from the Circle? I should have recognized you right away, I apologize."

"It's alright," she said. "You must be Alistair."

"In the flesh!" he grinned, "I'm afraid you haven't caught me at my finest, with the mage and all. So I'll just introduce myself. I'm Alistair, the new Grey Warden...though I guess you knew that."

She smiled bigger. "I'm Veira. Nice to meet you."

"Right, that was the name!" He folded his arms behind his back, attempting to rid his face of the goofy smile he had. "As the junior member of the Order, I will be accompanying you while you prepare for the Joining."

"The Joining?" she asked. "That's the ritual Duncan spoke of?"

"Ah, yes, and try not too think too much about it, otherwise you won't think of anything else!" He attempted to distract her. "You know, it just occurred to me that there hasn't been very many women in the Grey Wardens."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You'd like more women in the Order, then?"

"Would that be so terrible?" he asked. "Not that I'm some sort of lecher or anything please stop looking at me like that."

They laughed again. Maker, it was nice to have a conversation where both parties could laugh.

"So I'm curious," Alistair inquired, "have you actually encountered darkspawn before?"

She shook her head. "Have you?"

His face darkened. "When I first fought one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another one..." He shook his head. "Anyhow, I've sidetracked us."

Curiosity about the mage before prompted her to ask. "If I may, what was that argument about?"

"With the mage? The Revered Mother sent me to deliver a message to him. Which put me in an awkward position...you see, I used to be a Templar."

She didn't mean to step back so quickly, but her instincts to avoid Templars were too strong. He raised his hands in defence. "Used to be! Used to! Anyhow, the Revered Mother meant for it to be an insult, and the mage picked right up on that. I would have said no...but Duncan told me we're supposed to all try to get along. I guess they didn't get the memo."

"I suppose not," she agreed. Though she agreed with the mage, it was sneaky and disrespectful of the Revered Mother to do such a thing. But it wasn't Alistair's fault.

"Shall we be off?" he asked.

"Of course. I look forward to traveling with you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? Wow, that's a switch."

Duncan and the other two were standing at a bonfire close to the gates that lead into the forest. They were clearly waiting for them to arrive. "I see you found Alistair," Duncan said to Veira. "Good, then we can begin. Unless you are not finished riling up mages, Alistair?"

Alistair shrugged. "What can I say? The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she uses guilt, she should be put in the army."

"She forced you to sass the mage did she?" he asked firmly. "We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. You know that."

Alistair nodded an apology. "Now," Duncan continued, "in order to proceed with the Joining, there are two tasks I need you three to do. You will be traveling into the Kokari Wilds, where you need to kill the darkspawn you encounter, and collect three samples of their blood."

The colour in Veira's face drained. Blood? Why did they need darkspawn blood? Blood magic was the first thing that came to her mind, but she willed it out. There was no way, there had to be another explanation. It was a straightforward enough task, so she asked what the next task was.

"In some old ruins lies Warden treaties, that are obligations to those they address to fight against the Blight. Alistair, I need you to retrieve those treaties. They are our hope, in case the battle fails."

Alistair nodded gravely. "Three vials of darkspawn blood, and the treaties. Understood."

"Good. You must complete these tasks quickly, we will need you before the battle begins." Duncan nodded at the four. "Good luck."

Nerves sprung up in her stomach, knowing she'd face a darkspawn soon. It was something she had to get used to, and being scared now didn't help anyone. They walked wordlessly to the gate, where the guard stationed there warned them of the danger before opening the large wooden doors. Veira stepped first into the twisted Wilds, feeling the imminent shiver down her spine. She took a breath when the gate closed. They were being watched.


	7. Wilds and Witches

"Wow," Veira breathed, "I've never seen so many trees before..."

"Uhh...seriously?" Daveth asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Circle," both Veira and Alistair said at once.

"Riiight."

The Kokari Wilds was an incredible sight for her. The trees spread and wrapped around each other like cobwebs, and there was an eerie chill to the wind. She heard barely a sound; very few animals made a noise, and there was no indication of darkspawn...she thought. Honestly, she didn't know what they sounded like. But she knew they were here, somewhere, waiting for the next strike. Better to get this over with quickly.

They began their journey cautiously, Jory's eyes darting everywhere with each step. Daveth joked about it as usual, comparing him to a squirrel. It was met with a furious glare and a sniggering Alistair. She didn't want a fight between the two, so it was best to try to distract them.

"So, these treaties," Veira asked Alistair, "why are they here, in this forest?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "The Wardens used to control all of the towers here, but in time they had to abandon the ruins farther in. The treaties were likely kept hidden, preserved by magic. And the Wardens didn't need them at the time, till now."

"And people wouldn't just volunteer to help with the war?" It was an important cause, what with the whole country in danger.

He shook his head sadly. "For a long time, Wardens were banished from Ferelden. It was only until king Maric revoked the law, allowing us back. And our old allies forgot their obligations."

Interesting, she hadn't known that. There were definitely important things the Circle's library didn't have.

"Hey stop," Daveth said, raising a hand. "I hear something."

They stopped, Jory becoming more anxious. Veira craned her neck, listening, and then she could hear it too. Growling.

She heard a particularly loud growl behind her just in time, and she turned with her staff raised, shooting an arcane bolt right at a white blur. A wolf. Her spell struck it right in the face, and it yelped and dropped to the ground. Jory and Alistair quickly drew their swords, Daveth his bow, already readying an arrow towards the pack rushing towards them. She grinned; it was like fighting the Fade wolves during her Harrowing. Except they didn't dissipate when they died, they instead left a lot of red liquid.

The wolves couldn't handle her spells at all, and with Daveth's archery and the warriors going to town on them, it didn't take long to kill them all. There were a few bites here and there on Jory and Alistair, but that was it. Jory was very grateful for her healing magic, and Daveth commented that he wanted her warm healing hands all over him too. She ignored him, blushing slightly.

Her healing skills came in handy once again. They came across a severely injured soldier, crawling across the ground pitifully. They rushed to his side.

"Who...is that?" he coughed, "Grey Wardens?"

Veira knelt before him, her hands glowing green. "Shh, stay still. What happened?"

"We...we were ambushed by darkspawn...came right from the ground...everyone dead...slaughtered..." He had to catch a sob; he could barely speak due to the pain.

She looked up at Alistair. "We should take him back to camp."

Alistair nodded, but the soldier shook his head. "No...no, just...if you have any bandages...I should be able to..." He coughed again, liquid in his throat.

Alistair kneeled beside Veira, taking out the bandages in his pack. He wrapped them tightly around the man's wounds, who managed a feeble thanks. He stood up slowly, cradling the gash on his side. Groaning he hobbled down the safe path, towards the gates. She wanted to help the poor man more, but he didn't want it. She could at least take solace in that he would be well taken care of back at camp.

"Did you hear that?" Jory asked shakily, "a whole group of seasoned men and they were completely overwhelmed! I...I'm not a coward but...this seems reckless and foolish. There's a whole army in these woods!"

"Calm down ser Jory," Alistair said firmly, "there are darkspawn about, but we are in no danger of running into the horde."

"And how do you know that?" Jory snapped.

"Wardens can sense darkspawn, one of the reasons why we are needed. No matter their cunning, they won't be able to ambush us. That's why I'm here."

Veira's ears perked at that. That would be very useful for the battle to come.

"So you see ser knight," Daveth joked, "we might die, but at least we'll be warned about it."

"That is...reassuring?" Jory looked hopeless.

"Remember this is all a part of our test," Veira said calmly, "I don't think Duncan would have sent us if he didn't think we could do it."

Jory looked at her, his features calming. "Hmm, true."

"Come on," urged Alistair, "let's keep going."

That injured soldier was not the last horror they saw. Deeper into the woods, they came across several bodies hung by their necks, in an opening in the trees. It was like a morbid greeting.

"Poor slobs..." Alistair sighed, "that just seems so unnecessary."

"It's horrible..."Veira said quietly. "The darkspawn did this? Why?"

"They understand what makes us afraid, and angry. They are smart enough to be monstrous like that."

"Bastards..." Jory growled.

Veira averted her eyes as they continued on, but she could still hear the corpses swinging in the wind.

Alistair peered at her, worried. "So..." he started awkwardly, after walking in silence for a while, "what do you think of Duncan?"

The three recruits stared at him. "That's a pretty random question," she said.

He shrugged. "Everyone has an opinion on him. Shoot me, I'm curious."

"Poor choice of words, my friend," Daveth grinned, tapping his bow. Alistair snorted.

"I think he's an honourable man," Jory said. "Tough as steel."

"Quick too," Daveth added. "No way he couldn't stopped me dead like he did if he wasn't."

Veira's eyes widened. "You tried to steal from Duncan?"

He grinned at her. "He stuck out like a bad rash, what with his fancy armour. Thought he was rich. Grabbed my arm and flung me over his shoulder before I could touch his wallet. I can respect that, even more so when he didn't turn me over to the guards."

Alistair made a noise of disapproval, but didn't dwell on it. "And you, Veira?"

"I..." she mulled over the right words. "I think he is a good man, if firm. We agree on many things." She giggled, thinking of Bella. "Not very good with women."

"W-what do you mean?" Alistair spluttered, obviously never hearing that one before.

She told them about the trip to Redcliff, and Duncan's cute awkwardness around the lovely redhead. Daveth certainly had a good laugh, and Alistair really wished he could have seen it himself. Jory was happy that she liked Redcliff so much, being his home after all. The mood lifted considerably, no longer focusing on the horribleness. It was a nice change.

"In all seriousness," she continued gently, "Duncan saved my life. I hope one day I can make it up to him."

Alistair smiled warmly at her. "You know, I feel the same way. Duncan saved mine too. I told you how I was a Templar, right? Well, I never actually officially became one, but I was damn close. I never wanted to be one. I _hated_ it. When Duncan found me, he was the only one who actually cared what I wanted. The Grand Cleric fought hard to keep me, but Duncan invoked the Right."

That relieved a lot of tension Veira had felt about him. It gave her a lot of joy that he hated being a Templar, even though it caused him pain. It wasn't fair for her to see it that way, but it made her like Duncan even more. Not to mention Alistair of course.

Veira was about to say something more, but Alistair's face went deadly serious. He drew his sword and shield. "Darkspawn."

It was all he needed to say. Even Daveth changed his usual fun expression to that of a hunter, readying his bow. Like soldiers they marched closer, tense and grim. Her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest, wondering what these monsters looked like. She took a long breath in an attempt to calm herself. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen monsters before.

Her blood turned to ice at the sight of them. Five darkspawn stragglers grouped together, almost joyful at the sight of her and her fellow Wardens. Their skin was mottled and grey, looking like it was in the first few stages of decomposition. They had twisted features; large gaping mouths filled with long sharp teeth. The taller ones had a permanent, horrible smile that covered half their faces, and each darkspawn wore armour, likely stolen from their victims. Their screams sounded like muffled words, in a language she could not understand. But it was a command to kill, that much she knew.

Three darkspawn had equipped themselves with bows, and they didn't hesitate to start the attack. The other two charged towards them, bloodied swords raised. Biting back her fear, she powered up a powerful cold spell, intending to stop the ones in the distance. Their arrows would make the difference. Large icicles formed around her, and with a heavy motion with her staff, sent them flying to one of her targets. They pierced one of the shorter darkspawn, right before it managed to release an arrow. Without stopping, she powered up another spell, targeting another.

Alistair charged the darkspawn heading towards them, making the first blow by bashing his shield into one. The force knocked the darkspawn onto its back, but Alistair didn't relent. Jory hesitated before charging, urged by Daveth to suck it up and kill them. Jory gritted his teeth and bellowed a war cry, charging the second darkspawn. He parried it with his massive sword, bringing it down into a devastating swing, cleaving the darkspawn's shoulder in two. Daveth grinned in approval.

Daveth took out one archer, his arrow plunging into its neck. He and Veira were doing their best dodging arrows, but Daveth was shot in the shoulder. He cried out, falling to the ground.

"Damn you!" Veira screamed, aiming her lightning at the darkspawn. It didn't fall like most did while being electrocuted, it managed to keeping standing through sheer will. Slowly and painfully, it reached for an arrow and aimed right at her. She glared at it, keeping her spell and increasing its power. The darkspawn screamed louder and louder, adamant in its goal. The lightning ran out, completely spent, and for a moment, she was absolutely sure she'd have an arrow through her heart. But the darkspawn collapsed, it's skin smoking.

With one last roar from Alistair, he ripped his sword through the darkspawn he fought, ending the battle. Quickly, they rushed to Daveth's side. He was still grinning, even though he was obviously in pain.

"Well," he said cheerfully, "looks like I get to feel your warm hands all over me after all."

Veira snorted and shook her head, warning him to brace himself before she pulled the arrow out of his flesh. It took a while to tend to his wound, Veira healed it as much as she could, and Alistair wrapped it up with the remainder of his bandages. But Daveth was tough, and was on his feet shortly after. They surveyed the corpses, Veira collecting the blood. It was difficult, darkspawn blood was thick and the smell coming from these creatures was vomit-inducing. Which Jory did in the bushes.

"That should be enough," Alistair said, watching her.

She bit her lip. She wasn't going to expect an answer, but she asked anyway. "This...isn't for bloodmagic, is it?"

He frowned, looking away. "All I can say is that it isn't bloodmagic. But I can't say why we need it."

She sighed. It was good enough for now. Sealing the blood, she stood carefully, feeling wobbly from the stench. She covered her nose with the back of her hand. "Come on," she said, "let's find those treaties."

That wasn't the last group of darkspawn they encountered. The deeper they forged through, the thicker the woods seemed to be; trees, aggressive animals, more and more clusters of darkspawn. Darkspawn that could fade into the shadows and attack from behind. It was extremely difficult to defend against, but thankfully Alistair could sense ahead of time. But even for him it was hard to tell exactly where they would strike. After killing a large group of them, she found the flower she needed for the sick mabari.

What was worse was finding the darkspawn that could use magic. Battles between mages...usually included explosions and large objects being hurled everywhere. Veira couldn't put it into adequate words, the disconcertion of a terrible monster casting spells just like her. She was the upper hand, the ace of their group, but no longer. Now they were on equal ground. The darkspawn had a lot of good spells too. It trapped her in a cage of arcane magic, slowly crushing her little by little. Concentrating, she gathered her mana into a singular point, releasing it all at once into a pressure blast that broke the cage. Before the darkspawn could react, she powered up a piercing bolt of lightning, shooting it through its foul chest. When it fell, Alistair chopped off its head just to be sure.

"Ergh," she groaned, fighting to stay on her feet. She felt dizzy and her arms in particular were in a lot of pain. Her healing spell wouldn't do much here, it was more of a physical injury kind of spell. But the pain would fade in time, and she was losing time fussing over it. Nightfall would arrive soon. They marched on.

Her heart beat faster when they saw a large building ahead, built with the same stone as Ostagar. It was clearly a watchtower originally part of the ruins of Ostagar, which meant the treaties were in their grasp. There was one more group of darkspawn before they could reach the ruins, by then the group worked out the strategy they needed to quickly kill the creatures. Though there was one problem. They faced a new darkspawn. A taller, menacing type that wore full plate armour, wielded a massive great-axe with grace, and wore a large, spiked helmet to complete its evil warrior theme.

"Don't let it get the advantage!" Veira yelled to her comrades. A shiver ran down her spine when the darkspawn laughed, _laughed, _in reply. It charged through Jory and Alistair, knocking them aside. It ran straight for her. She could only dodge the giant axe, diving towards the ground and rolling away. But it recovered quickly, grabbing its axe from the ground and raising it above her. Daveth tried to shoot it, but its armour was stronger. Instincts kicking in, she felt her fingers turn cold, and she released a flurry of icy wind so strong that the darkspawn froze solid.

"Quickly Alistair, now!" He charged, smashing its head clean off with his shield. The frozen head rolled away, and the rest of its body shattered.

Daveth took a few moments to look over the ice shards scattered across the floor, whistling. "Nice work," he grinned at Veira, "just...don't do that to me, okay?"

She chuckled getting to her feet. "Don't give me a reason, and you should be fine."

"Hm, good point."

No one was badly hurt, so they pressed on. The ruins were nowhere near as large as Ostagar, so it wouldn't take too long to search through it. Veira eyed the surroundings before they did. The feeling of being watched did not go away, but they had been distracted by battles. She wondered if it was just the animals that set her unease, but she doubted it. More darkspawn? If that was the case, Alistair said nothing, which wasn't like him.

"Over here!" Jory called, waving them over. He stood besides a broken chest, weathered by time.

Daveth stared at her. When she gave him a questioning look, he said "Well, you're the mage. These treaties were sealed by magic right? So do the magic thing."

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a laugh. Kneeling, she picked at the debris, sensing only residue magic that was no longer active. Curious, she explored further...until a woman emerged from the ruins.

"Well, well, well," the woman said, "what have we here?"

Veira froze. The woman was strangely dressed, black leathers and a revealing top, with extravagant jewelry decorating her neck. But like herself, she had a staff on her back. An apostate?

The woman continued. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned. Or are you an intruder, who walked into these darkspawn filled wilds in search of easy prey?" She walked towards them slowly, down the steps of the ruins. "What say you, hm? Scavenger or intruder?"

Veira stood cautiously, not letting her eyes wander from the woman's face. She had the most striking golden eyes she had ever seen, but they were not kind.

"We are neither," Veira replied calmly, "this tower belongs to the Grey Wardens."

The woman snickered. "Tis a tower no longer. The wilds have obviously claimed this decimated corpse." The woman watched Veira closely, walking around the group while talking. "I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where are they going?' I wondered, 'why are they here?' And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long." She never directed these questions to anyone but Veira. "Why is that?"

Alistair was having none of it. "Don't answer her," he snarled, "she looks chasind, and that means there could be more of them."

The woman tilted her head, a mocking smile tugging on her lips. "Ooh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes, swooping is _bad,_" he said defensively, with a hint of sarcasm. Veira resisted the urge to smack her forehead. That was a line to remember, Alistair.

"She's a witch of the wilds she is!" Daveth cried fearfully. Veira was shocked. So far, Daveth had taken everything, even the darkspawn, with a stride of humour. Veira wasn't foolish enough to trust this woman, but outright fear? It didn't seem like him.

"Witch of the wilds?" the woman mocked. "Such idle fancies. Have you no minds of your own?" She turned her gaze back to Veira. "You there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Veira hesitated. It seemed the woman was more curious about them than anythig, and knowing her name wouldn't hurt the group. Besides, the woman obviously knew Veira was a mage, having watched them She doubted she would attack them, being outnumbered so. She decided to be polite about it, perhaps it would get more answers out of the woman. "My name is Veira. Pleased to meet you."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the wilds. You may call me Morrigan." A small smile decorated her features. "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?"

"Here no longer?" Alistair snapped, "you stole them didn't you? You're some kind of...sneaky witch thief!"

That time Veira did smack her forehead.

Morrigan didn't hesitate to tear right into that. "How very eloquent! Tell me, is it possible to steal from dead men?"

"Easily it seems," Alistair replied, "those treaties are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them."

Morrigan glared at him. "I will not, for twas not I who removed them. I would suggest to _you _that threatening with your stature is the equivalent of a dog barking at leaves blowing in the wind."

Before Alistair could angrily retort, Veira stepped in. "Then who took the treaties, Morrigan?"

The small smile returned. "Twas my mother, in fact."

So Morrigan wasn't the only one living here. Veira wondered how they could stay here, with an army of darkspawn lurking in the woods.

"Can you take us to her?" Veira asked.

Her companions blanched. "What?! Veira are you serious?" Alistair yelled.

She turned to him. "Think about it Alistair. She said her mother took the treaties, not destryoed them. The two of them are here, living by themselves in a forest infested with an entire army of darkspawn, right on their doorstep! No one is immune to them, you know that. Why take the treaties, if not to give them back? Why kill Grey Wardens, when there is a blight? I doubt Morrigan's mother is an idiot."

"I...but..." he spluttered.

"Ha! It's so refreshing to see some intelligence," Morrigan laughed. "I like you."

Alistair studied Veira closely, sighing. "All right, all right. But I'd be careful. First it's 'I like you~' then zap! Frog time."

"She'll put us in a pot she will! Just you wait!" Daveth shook.

"If the pots warmer than this forest, it'd be a welcome change." Jory addded.

"Follow me, if it pleases you." Morrigan said, turning to the forest.

They followed her in silence, keeping a fair distance between them. She could feel the anxiety of her companions with every footstep, and she hoped she was right about Morrigan's mother. She was extremely curious about Morrigan too, suspecting that she's an apostate. _Like you..._a voice in her head hissed. She shook her head. She was a Grey Warden.

She soon found out that Morrigan definitely didn't live a life of luxury. A tiny, run down hut stood close by a small lake, looking like it could barely fit one person, let alone two. An elderly woman stared at them as they approached. Looking closely, she had the same golden eyes as Morrigan, but she seemed frail...not at all peculiar like her daughter.

"Greetings, mother," Morrigan said, almost strained, "I bring before you four Grey Wardens who-"

"I see them girl," her mother replied quickly in a husky voice. She narrowed her eyes at them "Hm. Much as I expected."

Alistair scoffed. "Are we supposed to you expected us? Really?"

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe," Morrigan's mother grinned, her voice hinted with nastiness. "Shut one's eyes tight, or open one's arms wide. Either way, One's a fool."

Okay. So she _was _just as strange and mysterious as her daughter. A family trait, perhaps?

"We shouldn't be talking to her, she's a witch!" Daveth whispered desperately, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Quiet Daveth," Jory whispered back, "if she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?"

"There's a smart lad," Morrigan's mother mocked. "But irrelevant to the situation at hand. Believe what you will." She turned to Veira, smiling and calculating. "And what of you? Does your elven mind tell you something different."

She decided to tell the truth. "I'm not sure what to believe, to be honest."

"Ha!" Morrigan's mother laughed, "a statement that that possesses more intelligence than it implies. Be always aware. Or is it oblivious. I can never remember."

"So...this is a dreaded witch of the wilds?" Alistair asked, grinning.

"Witch of the wilds, hm?" Morrigans mother mused, "Morrigan must have told you that. She loves such tales. Oh, how she dances under the moon!" She burst into laughter, while her daughter looked annoyed.

"They did not come for your wild tales mother," she warned.

"True, they came for their treaties. And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these." She rummaged through a pot on her doorstep, holding several ancient looking scrolls. Magic radiated from them, a protection spell.

"You-!" Alistair began angrily. "...oh. You protected them?"

She tilted her head, handing the scrolls to Veira. "Take these and tell your wardens that this blight is much more dangerous than they realize."

Veira blinked, feeling unease. She thought Duncan knew quite well the danger of this blight. "How do you know?"

She smiled, and it was both parts wise and terrifying. "I know many things, mage."

And Veira believed her. "I...thank you for returning these."

"Such manners! Always in the last place you look. Like stockings." She laughed again. "Oh, do not mind me. You have what you came for."

"Time for you to go, then, "Morrigan said hurriedly.

Her mother turned to her. "Don't be ridiculous girl. These are your guests!"

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Oh, very well. I will lead you out of the wilds. Follow me."

Before the hut left her sight, Veira turned back to look at the old woman. She still had that smile on her face, watching. Veira had a feeling she would see her again someday.

The trip back was much less stressful. Her companions were relieved that they had not been eaten by a witch, and completed their tasks right on time. The sun was almost down, but they had carved a safe path through the forest. Jory in particular was quite happy, happy complained the entire time and now was about to put the awful forest behind him. He struck up a conversation about Redcliff and his pregnant wife. Veira couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She doubted the Grey Wardens would let him see her and their child often. But...if they defeated the blight tomorrow...

Morrigan said nothing when they arrived at the gates. She just gave Veira one last look before disappearing into the woods. Alistiar muttered a 'good riddance', commanding the guard to open the gates. It was a relief to see other people again instead of animals and horrible monsters. Without wasting time, they found Duncan at the bonfire.

"You return," he said, "have you been successful?"

They nodded, and he smiled. "We ran into some strange people along the way," Alistair informed him. "They could be apostates."

Duncan looked curious. "They could be wilder folk. But we do not have time to chase after potential apostates. We should begin the Joining immediately."

"Can you tell us what it will entail?" Veira asked hopefully.

Duncan immediately looked grave. "I will not lie, Wardens pay a heavy price to be what we are. You might pay the price now, rather than later. You must be ready to face it."

Veira took a deep breath. It really was the Harrowing all over again. "I am ready."

"So am I," Jory agreed, and Daveth nodded.

"Very well." Duncan turned to Alistair. "Take them to the temple. I will find the mages, then we can begin."


	8. The Joining

Jory paced while they waited for Duncan. Veira watched him from the corner of her eye, her arms crossed. Daveth fiddled with his daggers. They each put on airs to hide their anxiety, but Veira knew better. She was almost thankful that she had experience with something like this, but waiting was still hard on all of them. Even Alistair, who already passed his test a while back, had fright in his eyes ever so subtlety. Of course he did, he knew what was going to happen. Looking at him just made her even more worried, so she closed her eyes. At the very least, she wasn't alone this time.

Jory finally stopped his pacing, frustrated. "Why do we have to do this? All this waiting and tests...haven't we already proven ourselves?"

Daveth scoffed. "Are you blubbering again?"

"It's just...this Joining is dangerous, it has to be. I keep thinking of my wife...if I had known..." He shook his head. "It doesn't seem right."

"You said you were ready before didn't you?" Daveth scolded. "Look- the Wardens do what they have to."

"Including sacrificing us?!" Jory cut him off.

Daveth sheathed his daggers. "The Blight needs to stop, and I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end it. What do you think the darkspawn'll do to your pretty wife if the Wardens fail? Wouldn't you do anything to protect her from that?"

Veira eyed Daveth for a moment. He hadn't shown this much deep thought in the time she knew him. It was terrible of her, she realized, to assume he couldn't have such thoughts because of his background. A thief he was, but he knew the scope of what was happening in the world, and he was no where near as selfish as some would think.

Jory looked as if he had been punched in the gut. "O-of course I...I just don't like it. We should have been told."

"If they had, you may not have come in the first place," Veira reminded him gently.

"I...I know," he shook his head. "I've just never engaged an enemy I couldn't fell with my blade..."

She was about to tell him that the Grey Wardens were not his enemy when Duncan arrived. They said nothing to him, just held their breaths.

Duncan wasted no time. "At last we have arrived at the Joining," he said, walking towards a table with a chalice. He didn't look at any of them. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight, when the world was almost completely annihilated. It was the first Wardens who drank darkspawn blood... and mastered their taint."

Veira fought the revulsion raging in her stomach. She...they had to drink the blood of those monsters? That seemed a more crueler, impossible task than being forced into the Fade to fight a demon.

"D-drink their blood?!" Jory choked. He had turned ghost white, with a tint of green.

Duncan nodded solemnly. "As the First Grey Wardens did, and as we did before you. This is the source of our power, and our victory."

"After Grey Wardens drink the blood, we become immune to the taint. We can use it to sense the darkspawn and kill the Archdemon," Alistair added.

Veira swallowed the lump in her throat. That's why Grey Wardens were needed to destroy darkspawn. It turned every unnatural advantage darkspawn used to kill people besides outright slaughter against them. It was a horrible thing to do, but it was completely necessary and needed. There was no turning back now.

"Let's get this done with," Veira said flatly.

Duncan nodded. "We speak only a few words before the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair?"

His face unreadable, Alistair bowed his head and began to speak. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us, in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us, in the duty that cannot be foresworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we shall join you."

Veira would never forget those words.

Duncan took the chalice filled with the red liquid they had collected earlier. "Daveth, step forward."

He took a long breath, then shot Veira a quick grin. She smiled back, nodding. He took the chalice from Duncan, raised it to his lips and took one long sip. Duncan quickly took the chalice back, and watched Daveth closely. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, he let out a blood curdling scream in pain. He gripped his forehead, keeling over onto his knees. Veira took one step towards him, but Duncan shot her a look and shook his head. She bit her lip, trembling, but stayed put while watching helplessly.

It went from bad to horrifying. She saw a reddish purple rash spread across his neck, making him gasp and gurgle. He moved his hands from his head to his neck, desperately scratching. Coughs filled with liquid overcame him, and she knew he couldn't breathe. His face turned a deep red from lack of oxygen, and all he could do was tear at his throat.

"Maker's breath," Jory trembled. He couldn't take his eyes away from Daveth's bulging, tearful eyes. He backed away slowly, and Veira wanted to run for it too, if only for a second.

"I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan said sadly. Then it was over. Daveth collapsed, slowly suffocating until finally he moved no more.

Before either Jory or Veira could do...anything, Duncan turned to the terrified soldier. "Step forward, Jory."

Jory was still backing away, shaking his head. "N-no," he cried, "I-I have a wife...a child on the way! If I had known-"

"There is no turning back," Duncan said, emotionless.

"No!" Jory yelled, drawing his sword, "you ask too much!"

Calmly, Duncan placed the chalice back on the table, then walked slowly towards Jory. He drew his dagger, never changing his expression or looking away from the frantic man. Jory glared and charged. Duncan parried him easily, and a few swings later, Jory's sword flew from his hands. He was backed against a wall, Duncan towering over him. Jory tried one last attempt to grab his sword, but Duncan was too fast.

"W-wait!" Veira screamed, lunging towards them. Alistair grabbed her shoulder . She turned to him, furious, but she stopped. His face was pale and she felt his hand shake. His face was telling her to stop, but it was also an apology. Gritting her teeth, she turned back to see Duncan sink his blade into Jory's neck.

"I am so sorry," Duncan said, and there was sadness in his voice. Veira just felt sick. Both of them dead. In a matter of minutes. Daveth's eyes still bulged where he lay; Jory bleeding out, his mouth ajar and teeth stained red. Duncan took the chalice once more, and turned to her. Would she die like Daveth, or would Duncan have to kill her?

There was only one way that gave her a chance of survival.

"You were called upon to submit yourself to the taint," Duncan said, regaining his calm demeanour, "for the greater good. Veira, step forward."

Her gave her the chalice, her hands shaking. Slowly, she raised it to her lips, fighting back the urge to gag at the smell. She closed her eyes, keeping the image of Daveth and Jory out of her vision. She let the thick blood fill her mouth, the taste ungodly, and swallowed. For a few seconds her stomach tried to throw the blood back up. But she could feel it -or was it the taint?- move quickly through her veins. Then, there was the pain. Crying out, she clutched her forehead, and she could hear faint voices in her head. The pain was concentrating at a certain point in her head, and it was so intense she was losing her balance. The pain kept sharpening while the voices got louder and louder, she realized it was the cries of darkspawn that was filling her ears. But there was one call that superseded them all. It was a beautiful song.

The pain flashed white hot, and she had to open her eyes and mouth to scream, though she couldn't tell if she made a sound or not. She could only hear the song, and she could not see. Then, there was a bright light, and she felt herself thrown into it. The light turned green, a terrifyingly familiar green. She recognized the Fade when she saw it.

But it wasn't like any other time when she braved the Fade. Disoriented, she had to concentrate hard to smell the smoke around her. When her eyes finally caught up, she saw she was surrounded by large, violent flames. Only then did she feel the horrid heat. She screamed again, attempting to shield herself from the enclosing fire. To her horror, she could see faces in the flames, their flesh melting off their agonized expressions. _Maker no, no, not this again, please-!_

When the song stopped, she let out a sob. She turned around to find an opening out of this cage. But instead, she saw something that made the melting faces a mere second thought. A colossal dragon peered at her, radiating a pure evil force that was a thousand times worse than any demon. Even though it had no expression itself, she knew it was grinning, grinning at _her, _looking down upon the lowly creature below it. When it opened its mouth, a roar so terrifying that it forced Veira to the ground and shove her face into her knees, while she clutched her head desperately. It's voice sounded like an endless number of incoherent screams, mixed with a deep, malicious, _ancient _call that made the taint in her sing. Unable to shut the roar out, looked into its eyes, its blank, white eyes, like she was being commanded to. It opened its giant jaws and let out a long stream of black fire straight at her, but before it could engulf her she awoke from her nightmare.

The sight of two familiar men hovering over her was actually a comfort.

"It is finished," Duncan soothed. "Welcome."

Bracing herself, she sat up and rubbed the back of her head. She didn't remember falling, but judging from the bump, it was a rather harsh fall. When she steadied herself, she looked at her hands. She didn't feel all that different, aside from a residue headache not from her fall. But that dream...that dragon. Was that the Archdemon?

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked, eyeing her over.

She wanted to say she felt fine. Physically she was, save for the headache. But that dream disturbed her, more than she could articulate into words. And there was something else too.

"Why did you kill ser Jory?" she demanded, looking him in the eye.

He didn't look away. "It was already explained that you cannot walk away from this test. Grey Wardens must do whatever it takes, not only to defeat the blight, but protect ourselves as well. Jory drew a weapon, I had to defend myself. One day, you will understand."

But to her, it seemed just a waste of life.

"I hope his wife will be told," she said, turning away.

Alistair had a pained expression, as it seemed he agreed with her. But Duncan sighed, looking exasperated. "It will be dealt with once the Blight is over." That ended that.

"So," Alistair interrupted, "really, how do you feel?"

She rubbed her temples, easing the pain of her headache only slightly. "I have a bit of a headache, but other than that, I feel fine."

"Did you have any nightmares? When I did my Joining, I had terrible dreams after."

"Such dreams will come, and they may get better of worse," Duncan said, after Veira paled and nodded. "But they are normal for us."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, and Duncan knew it. "Take some time, "he said gently, "when you are ready, there is a meeting in a few hours for the battle tonight. The king wants you to be present."

Her eyes widened at that, but she knew better than to refuse."V-very well," she agreed, though she wasn't sure why she would attend rather than Alistair. He must have had some reason.

Alistair walked with her towards camp. He had a look on his face that told her he wanted to talk. "Yes Alistair?" she asked, smiling slightly.

"Ah, er," he stumbled, "it's just...you were right back there, with Jory. But...Duncan was right too."

She blinked. "That makes perfect sense Alistair."

He rubbed his forehead. "I know how that sounds. But death during the Joining...it really seems inevitable. In my Joining, we were...lucky I suppose. Only one of us died, but it was...horrible." He shuddered. "Cases like Jory aren't all that uncommon. But I do believe Jory would have tried to kill Duncan, if he didn't fight back."

She nodded slightly, there was truth to that. People trying to survive, to fight to live, will do anything to accomplish it. Jory had been a skilled fighter, so killing a Duncan who chose not to engage him was entirely possible. It was a sad story, but she promised herself that if she lived through the battle tonight, she would personally find Jory's wife and tell her what happened. She owed her that much, at least.

"Hey," Alistair nudged, "look. I know this might not be comforting at all, but, I'm really glad that at least one of you survived. You're a great mage and-" he shrugged, "a...good person? Agh, that just sounds incredibly dorky."

She laughed, and it was genuine and happy. It had been a while. "It was a bit dorky," she grinned, "but very much appreciated. Thank you."

He laughed with her. "Well, that's a relief," he fake sighed. "Hey, can you meet me at the huge campfire later before the meeting? I have something I want to show you."

She blinked, but nodded. "I hope it's a good surprise, that doesn't involve death or blood."

He shook his head. "I promise it will have a limited amount of blood. Pinky swear, even."

She laughed again, waving him goodbye as they departed. She still had one thing left to do before anything else. Instead of watching someone die, she could perhaps save a life. The Kennel master was still watching the poor mabari, and he was still as anxious as ever. His face lit up as soon as he saw her.

"Did you find the flower?" he asked immediately.

"Is this it?" she said, pulling out the plant from her pack.

"Yes! Wonderful, I'll begin treatment right away. Stay here, it won't take long."

She watched him grind the flower into a ointment with a few other ingredients, and coaxed the mabari to drink it all up. The effect was almost instant, he perked his ears and his tail began to wag. Looking at Veira, he slowly stood, but he was still too weak to walk. Instead, he crawled over to her, resting his head against the wood of the pen. She smiled gently, rubbing his ears through the opening.

The Kennel master chuckled. "He definitely knows you're the one who saved him. Maybe we can imprint him on you."

"Eh?" she looked at him wide eyed. "Is that possible?"

"Sure! It's pretty difficult ro re-imprint, but worth it in the end. It would be good to imprint him on someone he really likes, that he can trust. You fit the bill."

She considered it. In the tower, pets were of course forbidden. She giggled when she felt a wet tongue on her fingers. It was a lovely thought, to have a furry and loyal friend like him around.

"I'd love to have a dog like him," she said, "but...who knows what will happen in the battle tonight."

"Come back after the battle then," he said confidently. "He needs time to fully recover anyhow."

She smiled, nodding. The confidence might have been premature, but it was still quite uplifting. She gave the mabari one last pet before heading off. Before seeing Alistair's surprise, she decided to change out of her everyday clothes and put on her mage robes. Being a Grey Warden meant she could wear the robes with her brethren without fear of being outcast, at least she hoped. And they will know she is a mage.

When she arrived at the bonfire, Alistair was surrounded by a dozen or so men. He waved her over cheerfully. "I couldn't round everyone up," he said, gesturing to the lot, "but I did manage to grab a few! Everyone, this is the new Warden, freshly passed her Joining. Veira, these are your Warden brothers."

Each Warden smiled at her, putting their hand on her shoulder. "Welcome, sister," they all said, one at a time.

After, she nudged Alistair happily and grinned at him. "You were right. That surprise had much less blood than I was expecting."

"Just wait lass," a Warden mused, "there will be lots of blood later with us, trust me." They all laughed for a while, a brief relief for the stress they all felt.

Unfortunately, Veira couldn't stay with the Wardens for that long; they were all busy preparing for the battle. But for now, being welcomed like that was enough to know that she did belong. Alistair eventually left as well to prepare on his own, leaving Veira to work through her nerves for the battle. She settled near the Mage quarter, watching the mages race back and forth, frantically organizing scrolls and spells. She recognized most of them, though none she had a personal relationship to. She bet that for most of them this was the first time they've ever stepped outside, much like herself. The difference was they would be forced back to the tower while she might never have to step foot there ever again. It was then that Veira made another promise; that if she survived this battle, she would spend the rest of her days outside.

* * *

When Veira joined the meeting, she honestly wasn't surprised that it was getting heated. King Cailan was arguing with who she assumed was his general or adviser, with Duncan frowning and shaking his head slightly at the scene. Two others were present as well, the Grand Cleric herself, and a senior enchanter, Uldred his name was. She had spoken to him only a few times, whenever Irving was teaching her. He had always seemed highly uninterested in her, unlike Irving.

"-if you are so inclined Loghain, I should call for the Orlesian army to help us!" King Cailan said, frustrated.

"What a relief it is that your father didn't see you persist in the fool notion of handing Ferelden back to those who enslaved us for a century!" Loghain snarled back, rubbing his forehead angrily.

"It is not a fool notion," the king replied defensively, "the Orlesian's have moved past all that, and so should we. And you will remember who is king."

Loghain scoffed at him, but the king brushed it off. Instead of dealing with him further, he turned his attention to her, smiling softly. His smile reminded her of Alistair's quite a bit. "Ah, there you are," he said jovially, "congratulations on your passing. We'll need all the Grey Wardens we can get."

"Thank you, my lord," she said quietly.

"Again, I question whether we really need the Warden's to fight this battle..." Loghain sighed, as if he were talking to a child.

The king glared at him. "Enough of your conspiracy theories. Grey Wardens fight the Blight no matter what! And no matter where they're from."

"And it is your childish view of heros without critical planning that puts me at unease!" Loghain yelled, slamming his hands on the battle plan.

"Fine, fine," the king sighed, giving up, "speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I will draw the darkspawn horde to us, and then? "

Loghain made a grumpy noise, but leaned over and pointed at the plans. "You will alert the tower and send a signal to my men to-"

"-flank the darkspawn, yes I remember," the king said excitedly. "The tower of Ishal, yes?"

"Correct. I have a few men stationed nearby. It isn't a dangerous mission, but it is vital," Loghain said.

"Then we should send our best. Send Alistair and the new Grey Warden to get it done."

Wait, what? She was in shock for a few seconds, and it seemed they were all waiting for her answer. It was a direct order from the king himself, so she had little choice in her answer. "I...I'll do my best, my lord."

He nodded in approval, but Loghain scowled. "You rely on these Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?"

"_Enough_," the king said sharply.

"Your Majesty," Duncan interrupted, "you must consider the possibility of the Archdemon appearing."

Loghain waved a dismissive hand. "There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds."

The king grinned cheerfully. "Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?"

"I-" Duncan stumbled, gritting his teeth. He regained his posture quickly. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Your Majesty," Uldred began, "the tower and the beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi-"

The Grand Cleric shot him down immediately."We are not trusting any lives to your spells, _mage_. Save them for the darkspawn."

Ah, there it was. Veira's eyes glossed over and she looked at Uldred briefly before directing her gaze to the floor. That was something she was used to. Uldred's lip curled at the old woman, but there was nothing he could do.

"Yes, enough," Loghain pushed, "Cailan's plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon." He turned away from the plans.

"Thank you Loghain," the king smiled gleefully, "I cannot wait for that glorious moment when the Grey Wardens save the world from evil for good!"

"Yes Cailan," Loghain said hollowly as he walked away, "a glorious moment for us all."

The king dismissed the council, wishing Veira good luck. She quickly left when she saw the Grand Cleric glaring at her, knowing exactly what the old woman wanted to say to her. _Don't you forget what you are, mage. _

She met up with Alistair and Duncan for one last talk before the battle. Everyone, even the servants, were gone. The army had gathered and were waiting for the darkspawn to come. All that was left was to tell Alistair the plan.

"Veira knows the plan. You two will go to the tower of Ishal and wait for the signal to light the beacon for the army," Duncan said quickly.

"What?" Alistair said sharply, "I won't be in the battle? But...what's the point of keeping Grey Wardens, you know, the ones that fight darkspawn, _away_ from the horde?!"

"I agree with Alistair," Veira said, "fighting the darkspawn is why you recruited me in the first place."

"That is not your choice," Duncan frowned, "this is an order from the king. The beacon is vital to the plan. Without it, Teryn Loghain's men won't know when to charge."

"So he needs two Grey Wardens to hold the torch, just in case?" Alistair said, shaking his head.

"_If king Cailan needs Grey Wardens to light the beacon, then Grey Wardens will do it," _Duncan commanded, ending the argument.

"Alright, alright," Alistair relented, but not without adding a "just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."

Veira couldn't suppress a giggle. "I don't know, that would be a great distraction."

Alistair snorted. "Me shimmying down the battle line _would_ give the darkspawn something to think about."

"I'd pay a lot of money to see that," she grinned.

"Promises, promises." He nudged her shoulder.

Duncan groaned. "Are you two finished?"

The two wiped their silly grins off their faces and went back to being serious. "Yes," Veira said, "I'm ready."

"Yeah, I am too."

"Then I must join the others," Duncan said. "I expect you two to be Grey Wardens. Please remember that."

"We will," Alistair nodded, "May the Maker watch over you, Duncan."

"May He watch over us all."

Duncan quickly left their sights. Alistair and Veira exchanged one more look of encouragement, heading towards the bridge. But they stopped in their tracks when they heard the long bellow of a war horn below. The darkspawn had arrived.


	9. The Battle of Ostagar

The sky exploded over and over with white thunder, pouring rain upon the massive army stationed below the weathered bridge. It was a wonder which booming noises belonged to the thunder, and which belonged to the heavy footsteps of the impending horde. But what was more frightening than the distant steps was the silence when they stopped.

The two Grey Wardens listened with held breath as they made their way towards the bridge, the voice of the king giving commands to his army ringing in their ears. The horde had charged. Somehow, Veira blocked out the screaming voices of the darkspawn, knowing there was well over a thousand of them. When they reached the bridge, they both had to stop at the sight of what was happening. Many soldiers were lined up at the edge, shooting giant arrows from the ballistas. Veira caught a glimpse of the horde, though she wish she hadn't. An seemingly endless line of darkspawn after darkspawn filled the field, charging relentlessly towards the army with weapons in the air. She saw a darkspawn cruelly cut down a mabari, opening its stomach and letting the gore rain down its face.

Veira was transfixed. She almost screamed when the king bellowed 'FOR FERELDEN!' and the army charged. Luckily Alistair had a bit more experience than she in battle, albeit not at this kind of degree. She snapped out of her daze when he tugged at her arm and yelled for her to follow him. Seconds after she turned to go, a giant boulder catapulted from the horde obliterated one of the statues on the bridge, sending fiery debris everywhere. They ducked and shielded their faces, but Veira was almost knocked over by backup soldiers racing madly to arm the ballistas and replace the soldiers that fell. Regardless, they urged on.

Time slowed down as they raced across the bridge. They could no longer feel the rain pelting their faces, and could only hear the sound of their own breath. Veira was amazed at herself for managing to keep going. The horde kept launching boulders towards them, and she saw one break a part of the bridge with ease and continue to crush several soldiers. If she didn't will her mind to go blank, she surely would have gone mad at the sight. They pressed on, and all they could do was avoid the stains.

They didn't look back when they reached the other side.

It was foolish to believe this mission would be easy. Two panicked men sprinted to them, screaming for help. "Help us! Please! The darkspawn, they-they..."

"Calm down!" Alistair shouted. "What happened?"

"They took over the tower! A large group of them attacked us! Muh-most of our soldiers are-!"

Veira and Alistair exchanged fearful glances. That meant the darkspawn were smart enough to send smaller groups to attack away from the horde. And, that their mission would be much more deadlier than they had thought. Alistair gritted his teeth. "Then we have to go! You two, with us!"

As they ran closer, Veira could finally sense the darkspawn away from the horde. It was a strange sensation, a harsh tug inside her mind. She could tell there were a lot of them. Without hesitation they rushed right in, and fought their way through. Corpses were littered everywhere, most of them mutilated soldiers. The soldiers still fighting didn't even react negatively to her magic, she even heard one mutter a 'thank the Maker' when she shot one darkspawn down with lightning. She briefly wondered how her fellow mages were holding up at the main battle, hoping they were alright.

They cut their way to the tower, the few soldiers left opted to stay where they were in case more darkspawn emerged from the woods around them. The two that had sought them out decided to help them take back the tower, to Veira's relief. Who knew how many of those creatures were in that tower now.

When they entered the tower, she could sense quite a few. It figured as much. As they turned the corner into the first floor, they were immediately ambushed by ten or so darkspawn, flaming barricades surrounding them. Veira targeted the archers, while the warriors charged. The battle was in their favour for a while, but out of the corner of her eye she saw a spark, a trail of smoke blossoming behind it. A fireball!

"Get down!" she screamed, shooting a small arcane bolt at Alistair. It hit him on his back, knocking him off his feet. The spark missed his head by a few inches, then exploded on impact on the floor. Veira ducked for cover, but she still felt the brunt of the flames. Her robes had many enchantments, being fire proof was one of them, but she could not say the same about her skin. She felt her hands and the side of her neck burn. Her eyes watered but she forced herself to ignore it. She got to her feet as quickly as she could, looking for the mage darkspawn that shot the fireball. It was hidden behind a pillar, but ran out when it saw the rest of her group on the floor. It started casting something bigger.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ignoring the pain in her hands, she gripped her staff and shot a stream of furious icicles, aiming them right at the horrid darkspawn's face. Since it was in the middle of casting still, it couldn't defend itself. The icicles punctured both its eyes, and one large one stuck itself in its grey forehead.

Alistair and the other two finally regained their strength, and took out the remaining darkspawn. Alistair's legs had been burned, but fortunately it wasn't too bad. The remainder of the group had a few burns too.

"Arrgh," Alistair groaned, carefully poking his legs, "damned thing got me good."

"Yes, well," Veira said, "try not to move so much. Sit here."

"Yes mom," Alistair joked, tilting his head. His eyes then went wide at a sudden realization. "Hey, you shot me!"

She began healing his legs. "I figured you wouldn't have liked to been blown up completely. It was headed straight for your head."

"Oh."

"You're welcome."

She finished healing his legs as best she could, and they both patched his burns up with some bandages. It would have to do. She did the same for the other two, leaving herself for last.

"Hey, your hands look pretty bad. You okay?" Alistair asked.

"They hurt, but I'm alright. Look-" She casted a cold spell that wrapped around her hands tightly, and the chill relieved quite a bit of the pain. "I'll keep healing my hands gradually, but we have to move. I'm not content with letting the darkspawn overwhelm us here."

He nodded, and they moved on. She ignored the sting on her neck and concentrated on her hands. More darkspawn were waiting for them in the next part of the first floor. Even though she was injured, she noticed that she had gotten better at battles. She could anticipate the enemy's movements somewhat better, and her spells had gotten stronger. All she wished is that she knew a spell that could hit more than one opponent. Or, a spell that could protect her person better.

When the last darkspawn fell, she scowled. Her spell book was still in her bag at camp. She'd just have to get it after the battle...if she survived.

They ascended to the second floor, their footsteps growing heavy. It was as if the entire horde decided to attack the tower, and there was no chance for recovery time. Alistair had packed lyrium potions for her, thank the Maker, so she didn't have to worry about running out of mana for casting. But physically, she was exhausted.

This floor presented a problem. They arrived at a hallway that she could sense had maybe twenty darkspawn waiting. There were so many that her senses muddled them all together, so there could be more. Since they were so small in number, the darkspawn themselves couldn't sense the two Grey Wardens approaching. They snuck up to a corner, peering through the hallway. A full frontal assault would be suicidal. However, there was a ballista stationed at the end of the hall away from the darkspawn. If they could reach it, then they would have a chance.

"Any ideas?" Alistair whispered when they drew back.

Veira's mind raced. "We-we need that ballista. It's our only chance," she whispered back, "all the archers were near the door-all in a line. Does anyone...know how to operate one?"

"I can," one of the soldiers said.

She nodded. "Good. You two will protect each other. Run as fast as you can to it and yell once you're ready to use it. Alistair and I will have to provide a distraction."

"What kind of distraction are you thinking, exactly? Because seriously, I'm not putting on a dress and dancing the Remigold." Alistair grinned.

Veira giggled. "Oh, you have no idea how tempting that is, but I was thinking more along the lines of you standing in the middle of the hallway and taking all the arrows."

"Oh? Is that all?" Alistair said sarcastically.

"I know, I know. You'll need...a much bigger shield." She clicked her tongue when she drew a blank.

"Dear lady, I'd need a door sized shield to pull this plan off," Alistair shook his head.

Veira gasped, grinning from ear to ear. "Alistair, you're brilliant!"

He gaped at her in response. "I must be hearing things."

"No, listen. You'll just _use a door. _The door to this floor was large and thick. All you'll need to do is run into the middle and set it down. Meanwhile, I'll kill all the darkspawn that come to you."

"Wow..." Alistair nodded. "I _am _brilliant, aren't I?"

She smacked him on the shoulder teasingly, then headed straight for the door. Having experience with door situations like this, Veira knew to freeze the hinges solid while Alistair broke them off. The door was extremely heavy, so much that Alistair needed help carrying it down the hall. They had to tinker the plan for one of the soldiers to carry the door with Alistair into the battle, then run to the ballista. It wasn't the most solid battle plan, but the circumstances could only stretch so far. The army needed them.

There was only so much time before the darkspawn would notice them. Veira and Alistair exchanged a nod, then he charged.

The darkspawn reacted immediately. The line of archers drew back their arrows and began firing. So far the plan worked, the door was thick and wide enough to stop the arrows clean and protect Alistair. They slammed the door onto the floor and the two other soldiers bolted to the other end of the hall. Darkspawn with swords and shields advanced towards Alistair, and Veira powered up her mana. She had already shot one down when things went terribly wrong.

The door that connected to side rooms, right where she was for cover, burst open with dozens of darkspawn spewing out of the opening. She blanched, and she had very little time to react. She managed barely to dodge the first few attacks, but she couldn't avoid all of them. Searing pain blossomed on her shoulder, along with a disturbing warmth. Somehow, it overwhelmed the burning pain on her neck, but it was the last thing on her mind. She backed away from them, desperate, shooting spells at their terrible grins. She heard Alistair shouting her name in the distance, but he couldn't help. She was alone.

She jumped at the feeling of a wall behind her. There was nowhere else to go. _This is it, _she thought, _I'm going to die. _She clenched her teeth, trembling. _But I lived a good life, didn't I?_

All she could think of was the Circle. The good days, the ones filled with fear, the ones filled with endless study and practice. The Templars watching. Hours spent looking out her window. She realized she had only seen the outside world for not even two weeks.

It wasn't enough.

"No!" she screamed, raising her hands to shield herself. What happened next, she couldn't explain entirely. Mana erupted from her fingers, but it was not the usual arcane or elemental energy. It pulsated through, stopping them in their tracks. They could barely stay on their feet, the way they swayed where they stood. No longer did they have horrid grins, but rather they looked dazed. They didn't even react to the explosion behind them.

The ballista went off smoothly, and Alistair got out of the way in time. He rushed over to the dazed group, unleashing his fury. Veira joined him, shooting the darkspawn with enough force to knock them off their feet and smash them into the wall. The battle ended quickly when the tides turned, and the nagging headache disappeared as soon as the last darkspawn fell.

Exhaling slowly, Veira leaned back against the wall, absentmindedly putting her opposite hand on the shoulder that was hurt. She had faced danger many times before, but never had she been that close to death. For a moment she lost herself, only allowing her own breathing to be heard. She didn't know how long she stared at the corpses, breathing in and out. It was Alistair's frantic face that brought her out.

"Veira! Hey, are you okay?!"

She blinked. Then she gave an awkward laugh. "That...was a terrible plan."

Alistair sighed in relief, smiling. "Nah, it was good. We're all alive. Though," he grimaced, pointing at her shoulder, "you got pretty banged up."

"Y-yes," she hissed in pain, "I don't think I'll be able to heal it entirely."

"I have healing potions and some bandages," he said quickly.

It was a bit awkward while Alistair applied the bandages, she had to shift around the shirt of her robe to properly expose the wound, thereby exposing quite a bit of her skin. She didn't really mind all that much, but by the blush on his cheeks and ears, it seemed he did. _Heh, _she smiled, _just like Cullen. _

It had been a while since he entered her thoughts. She wondered if Cullen was terribly upset that she was gone, or if the revelation that she assisted a bloodmage soured his crush on her. It would be for the best. It was not healthy to cling to a dream that could never come true. She learned that lesson the hard way.

Alistair finished the bandaging with a tight knot and and averted eyes. "All done," he sqeaked.

"Thank you Alistair," Veira smiled, pulling her robe back into place. With three injuries now, they'd have to finish their mission quickly. Her hands were out of immediate danger of the burn, but she would have to switch to healing the burn on her neck to prevent it from becoming infected. Her shoulder was not bleeding, and that would have to do for now. They were getting close to the top floor.

"Maker's breath, why are there so many darkspawn in here? We weren't supposed to meet any resistance at all!" Alistiar said as they hurried along.

There was a scary answer to that question. That the darkspawn are more tactical than Duncan had anticipated, or worse yet, there really was a giant archdemon close by giving them orders. Alistair would know that. She tried to be reassuring. "Weren't we just complaining that we wouldn't see any action to Duncan?" she fake grinned.

"Ha! Hey, you're right," Alistair laughed, "guess there is a silver lining."

"And the darkspawn we kill here is darkspawn the army won't have to."

He looked serious again. "Yes, that's true. Come on, we need to hurry. We probably missed the signal, and the army needs us."

They picked up their pace, reaching the next floor with little resistance. Thank the Maker for that, as it gave her time to actually partially heal the burn on her neck as they went. Alistair and they other two seemed alright with their injuries as well, or perhaps the desire to finish the mission cast out the feeling of pain. Either way, they were so close to their goal that the darkspawn that tried to stop them stood no chance.

There was one new thing that concerned Veira, though. The loud thumping noises coming from above them.

"Do any of you hear that?" she asked, after finishing off a darkspawn.

"The stomping upstairs? I hear it," Alistair said, kicking the darkspawn corpse attached to his sword off.

She didn't like the word 'stomping' in this context. "Any...any idea what it is?"

"No idea," he admitted, "it could be anything. Let's hope it's just a very large mouse with a cruel sense of humour."

_Maker. _Coming up to the last door didn't make her feel much better, neither for her companions. "This is it," Alistair breathed, "the top floor."

"Are you three ready?" Veira asked nervously. _Am I ready? _

The nodded, grave in their expressions. She nodded back, opening the door to whatever was behind it.

They rushed in, to take whatever it was by surprise, gain a tactical standpoint. But it didn't matter. They all froze where they stood, fear etched into their eyes as they looked up at the creature.

It slouched over at first, this massive thing. At least ten feet tall, probably more, incredibly muscular. When it heard them come through, it lazily turned its head. Blood dripped from its large jaws, as did it flow from its giant fingers that had obviously pulled apart a corpse with ease. When it took a few steps, the ground shook each time its foot hit the floor. Cocking its large, horned head, it snorted at the tiny group, spewing blood mixed spit from its lips. And then it roared, a deep and terrifying sound, showing off its frightening set of large, sharp teeth.

Nothing was more terrifying than that thing charging at them.

For something so large, it sure didn't take that long to reach them. Alistair, Veira and one of the soldiers managed to get away in time, but the other was not so lucky. The massive darkspawn slammed into the poor man with its horns, crushing him instantly against the wall. Alistair screamed a curse, getting its attention. It lumbered toward him, attempting to grab the warrior. Alistair slashed at its fingers, which were almost as big as he was. Veira began shooting strong spells at it, though they seemed to only irritate it.

The soldier managed to plant an arrow in its chest, but that only made it angrier. It stopped trying to grab Alistair, and raised both its arms above its head. It brought them down with so much force that part of the floor broke apart, and the shockwave threw both Alistair and the soldier off their feet. It grabbed the soldier before he could move, and threw him at Veira. Screaming, she knew she couldn't do anything to stop him, and his body weight with his armour would surely kill her. She lunged to the floor, missing him just barely, but she still heard the disgusting crack of his head dashed against the floor.

Trembling, she quickly got to her feet, not daring to look back at the body. She gritted her teeth in anger, powering up a powerful ice spell. She roared a battle cry as she let the massive icicle fly, and hitting the monster's forehead caused it to explode on impact. The darkspawn roared in pain, covering its head with its hands. Alistair, who had regained his strength in the meantime, used this opportunity to leap at the monster, stabbing the beast in the stomach. He could only just hang there as the darkspawn screamed and flailed. Thinking they had won, the darkspawn soon proved her wrong, as it grabbed Alistair, sword and all, and tossed him to the floor. He managed to land well enough not to pass out, but he looked up, terrified to see the monster turn its gaze on Veira, glaring murderously. As blood trickled down its face from the injury she had caused, it slouched over, readying a charge at her.

She glared back, and stood her ground. "Come on!" she taunted, forming a plan. It fell for it. As it began its charge, she pointed a freezing spell...at the floor. The area it ran on froze over, and the clumsy beast slipped. It fell hard, sliding a few feet on its shoulder. Dazed, it rolled onto its back to regain itself, but Veira didn't let it have the chance. Raising her arms, she moved the ice that covered the floor toward it, engulfing its limbs in ice. For now, the darkspawn was stuck.

Using the last ounce of his strength, Alistair grabbed his sword and charged, jumping into the air above it and bringing his weapon down onto its heart. The beast let out a bloody roar, but Alistair cut it short by stabbing it in the throat. After that, it moved no more.

There was little time to celebrate. Alistair jumped off the corpse, holding his side in pain. "Alistair!" Veira yelled, rushing to his side, "are you alright?"

"I'll be fine!" he waved her off, "go, light the beacon!"

She nodded quickly, running to the fire pit, while brushing off a small headache. With a simple thought and a wave of her hand, fire streamed from her fingers, engulfing the wood. The fire spread up through the post, lighting the even bigger fire pit above. Loghain's army would be able to see it.

"We did it," Alistair breathed in relief, putting a hand on her shoulder that wasn't injured.

"What should we do-" Veira began, but her voice caught in her throat. Her headache hadn't gone away. Several darkspawn with crossbows appeared into sight from their stealth, pointing their weapons at them. The feeling of arrows piercing through her was so painful she fell back, only getting one last look at them before she faded to black.


	10. Treaties

_"Sound...the retreat."_

_"But...what about the king? Should we not-"_

_"Do as I command!"_

_"...pull out! All of you, let's move!"_

_His army hesitated with the order, but in the end they obeyed their general. For a few moments he stood there, silent and watching the horror below. He consoled himself that he was doing the right thing. The right thing..._

_He shook his head. There was no turning back now. He turned a blind eye to the carnage, joining his army for a long and heavy trip back to Denerim. He did not look back._

* * *

Veira awoke to a run down ceiling, cracked and stained from leaking water. The bed she laid on was musty and lumpy, and there was a uncomfortable chill throughout the room. For a while, she could not move. Her head was fuzzy as she desperately tried to remember what happened. The bridge...then the floors of the tower...the Circle? No, no, that wasn't right. She remembered...pain? Why wasn't she in pain now? And the battle! What happened with the army?

She forced herself to rise, causing her to grip the side of her head as a dizzy spell hit her. She barely noticed the figure beside her, but she knew the voice that came from it.

"Ah, you're eyes finally open. Mother will be pleased."

Veira focused her eyes on the woman, recognizing her as the girl from the Wilds. Wasn't her name- "Morrigan?"

She nodded. "Indeed. I am...honoured you remember me." The way she said 'honoured' made sure Veira knew better. Right now she couldn't care. She _needed _answers.

"Please...I don't know what- the army. What happened to the army, the king?"

Morrigan paused, staring at Veira with apprehensive eyes. "The man that was supposed to answer your call...quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle... the army and Wardens were massacred."

Her eyes bulged, and her mouth twisted in horror, but she could not move. Her hands clenched into painful fists, squeezing the sheets between her fingers. "And...and there were no survivors? N-none?"

Morrigan pursed her lips in annoyance. "None of consequence. Like I said. A massacre. Your friend...he is not taking it well."

"Of course he isn't!" Veira snapped, "I certainly am not! They were...they were our comrades." She thought of Duncan, the man who saved her life. "Our...our mentor." Her eyes widened, processing what Morrigan had said. "Wait...my friend? Alistair is okay?"

"If you mean the suspicious, dim witted one you were with earlier, then yes. He is fine, physically."

A small wave of relief washed over her, but it was short lived. "Maker, how did we get off that tower? I remember being hit...but I'm not in any pain. What happened?"

Morrigan crossed her arms, inhaling softly. "It was mother who saved you both. How she did so, 'tis up to you to believe or not. She turned into a giant bird and plucked you from the tower." She ignored the look on Veira's face. "She took you two here, and tended to your wounds, as did I. You are welcome, by the way."

"I-" Veira stumbled, knowing what she should say but deciding not to, "I'm sorry, this doesn't make sense. How could Loghain just abandon them...us like that?"

Morrigan frowned. "I know not. All I know is what I saw."

"You...you were _watching _the battle?" Veira choked.

"Yes," Morrigan said irritated, "but it would be best if you didn't ask."

"Please Morrigan," Veira begged, "I must know. Any detail might help."

"If you insist," Morrigan sighed. "When I arrived, the field was already littered with corpses. Most were of the army. The darkspawn still left were...reaping the scene. The soldiers that still lived were dragged underground."

Veira felt like she was going to be sick. "W-why would they...what do darkspawn need of living soldiers?"

"I'm afraid I do not know. I did not linger for very long. All I did was find and retrieve this." Morrigan reached for a bag leaning against the bed. It was Veira's. Morrigan plopped it beside the bedridden mage.

"My things?" she asked, confused. "Why would you go through all of that just for this?"

"_I_ would not by choice," Morrigan said through her teeth. "Mother forced me to."

She rolled her eyes at the continued confusion on Veira's face. "T'wasn't your 'things' that mother wanted to save. It was this-" she reached into the bag and pulled out Veira's spellbook. "-this is what is important. Mother understands how important it is for mages to keep their spells- their _grimoire- _close to their person. Consider it a valuable lesson your asinine Circle never taught you."

"I-" She thought of several comebacks that would defend the Circle, but it didn't matter right now. Morrigan and her mother did a great kindness, saving their lives.

"Thank you. For everything, Morrigan."

Morrigan raised her eyebrows in surprise, taken aback. "I..." she started awkwardly, "you are welcome. T'was mother that did most of the work- I am no healer."

Veira smiled, though it was still a pained smile. "Regardless. I'm not dead because of you. But...I need to speak with Alistair. Think of... of what we should do now."

"Hmn. You probably shouldn't do that in your small clothes."

"Wha-?" Veira began, looking down. "Oh."

Morrigan had a mocking grin. "Then I shall stay, and make something to eat."

Veira peered around the room, spotting her robes lying on a chair close to the bed. The tear and bloodstain on the shoulder were still there. Blankly, she reached over and took it, feeling the silky fabric. She thumbed the tear slowly, the phantom pain in her shoulder flaring. She gritted her teeth. They were all dead. The king, Duncan, the Wardens. The mages from the Circle. Gone, as quickly as she met them.

She grabbed the dress inside her bag, cramming the mage robe in its place. She quickly dressed, though the clothing did not cover the red scab on her shoulder. But it didn't matter, she knew she looked...normal. Although she didn't know the plan, they were going out of the Wilds. She was afraid of facing paranoid Ferelden's even more now. She hesitated at the door, wondering what she would see out there.

Luckily, it was just as normal as she looked. She was surprised the Wilds around the hut wasn't engulfed in flames. Was the horde still pillaging Ostagar? Alistair was standing alone, staring out at the marshes beside them. The sight hurt her heart. As devastated as she was, she couldn't even begin to imagine how much pain Alistair was in. She was about to speak to him, but Morrigan's mother spoke first.

"See? There's your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, boy."

He spun around, eyes wide. They were red as well, tired and raw. "You...you're alive!" His small laugh was painful to hear. "I-I thought you were dead for sure!"

"I'm fine Alistair, really," she lied. There was no point asking him how he was.

The relief in his face quickly vanished. "This doesn't seem _real,"_ he almost sobbed, "Duncan is dead. _All _of them are dead. If...if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on that tower..."

"Do not speak as if I am not here," Morrigan's mother snapped.

"I-I'm sorry," Alistair stuttered, "but...what do we call you? You never told us your name!"

"Names are pretty, but in the end useless," Morrigan's mother said flatly, "the Chasind folk call me Flemeth. It'll do."

Both Alistair and Veira gaped at her. Flemeth was an infamous witch, that was said to hold the power of demons and has lived for centuries. Veira assumed she was just a legend told to frighten children. "You mean..._the _Flemeth? The-"

"The Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair finished for her, "Daveth...was right all along."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Flemeth scoffed. "I know a little magic. It has served me well." She turned to Veira. "You would say the same, I assume?"

"Er-" She wasn't sure how to answer that. She changed the subject to avoid it. "We need to come up with a plan."

"We _need _to bring Loghain to justice!" Alistair said harshly, "why would he do this?"

"Now that is a good question," Flemeth said, "perhaps this Loghain does not realize the true danger of this Blight."

Alistair looked deadly serious. "The Archdemon." Flemeth just nodded gravely.

Obviously, these two knew more than she did. "What is this Archdemon, exactly?" Veira asked cautiously.

Flemeth sighed. "It is said that an Archdemon is an old God of the Tevinter Imperium, sought out and tainted by the darkspawn. Centuries have proven this is true, several times over. And only fools ignore history."

The blood drained from Veira's face. "So, not only must we kill a real god, we also have to seek out and defeat the general who betrayed us?"

Alistair gritted his teeth and pulled a small section of his hair. "If Arl Eamon were here...he'd put a stop to Loghain, I'm sure of it!"

"Arl Eamon?" Veira asked, searching her mind for the name. She had to admit she didn't know all of the lords and ladies currently in Ferelden. It didn't matter much when you were staying in one place for the rest of your life. Then she remembered Duncan and the king had mentioned him. "The...arl of Redcliff, yes?

Alistair nodded. "I know him, I mean, personally. He's a good man! He would never stand for what Loghain did!"

Veira could see where Alistair was going with this. They needed an army, desperately. Arl Eamon still had his soldiers and knights, and from the sound of it, would be eager to help them. But that wouldn't be enough. There was no way Redcliff had thousands of men hiding in that tiny village. "There must be others we can call upon, surely!"

"Of course!" Alistair blurted out loudly, causing Veira to jump. "The treaties! Grey Wardens can call elves, dwarves, mages and humans! They're obligated to help us!"

Flemeth grinned. "I may be old, but elves, dwarves, mages, this Arl Eamon. That sounds like an army to me."

Alistair turned to Veira, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. "So...can we do this? Gather an army and defeat the Blight?"

"Is there a way to contact the rest of the Wardens?" Veira asked, biting down the sickness she felt asking such a question. "I mean...that wasn't all of them, right?"

"N-no, they were just...just the Wardens in Ferelden..." Alistair said slowly, averting her eyes. "But we have to assume Loghain will take steps to prevent other Wardens from entering Ferelden. And even if he doesn't...I-I don't know how to contact them." He looked away, ashamed of himself.

Veira took a deep breath, burying the doubts she felt for now. There was no one else who can do this. No one. It was theirduty_. _Was she positive that she herself could do this? No. But she _had _to try. She placed a firm hand on his arm, smiling up at him. "We can do this, Alistair. Gathering armies are what Grey Wardens _do." _

He hesitated at first, but he regained the sliver of hope in his eyes. Reflecting her smile, he nodded, clasping his hand on hers.

"So you're ready then," Flemeth said, watching the two. "Ready to be Grey Wardens."

"Ready as we'll ever be," Veira shrugged. "Thank you for saving our lives, Flemeth."

Flemeth raised one hand, dismissing her. "No, no. Thank you. There is no one here that can save the world in time, besides you two. And this is coming from a powerful old hag. Be grateful."

_Save the world. _A strange emotion blossomed in her chest at the words. Excitement. Why was she excited? She understood her fear and the doubts she held for herself. But why excitement? She quickly summed up the feeling as the sole emotion of the traveling she'll get to do on the journey, but something told her that wasn't it. She decided to ignore it.

"Before you go," Flemeth continued, "there is one more thing I can give to you for your mission..." She turned towards the door. Seemingly right on cue, Morrigan emerged from their hut.

"The stew is bubbling mother dear," she said, "shall we have two guests for the eve, or none?"

Flemeth tilted her head at her daughter, an eerie smile forming on her face. "The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly girl. You you are going with them."

Morrigan sighed sarcastically, puckering her lips in fake sadness towards the Wardens. "Such a shame-" Then it hit her like a rock. She twisted back to her mother. "_What?!" _

Flemeth barked a laugh. "You heard me. You've been itching to get out of the Wilds. Here is your chance."

"Have I no say in this!?" Morrigan yelled, furious.

Veira raised her hands defensively. "Ah, thank you, but if she doesn't wish to join us..."

"Her spells will be useful," Flemeth pressed, frowning at her daughter. "Better yet, she knows the way out of the Wilds-"

"But-" Morrigan interrupted, "I-I'm not even ready-"

"You must be ready," Flemeth said firmly, "they need you Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail."

"I-" Morrigan hesitated, but then relented. "...understand."

Alistair cleared his throat. "Not to...seem ungrateful for the..._gift,_" he said slowly, "won't this just add to our problems? Out of the Wilds, she's an apostate."

Flemeth's lip curled. "If you do not want the help of us illegal mages," she snarled, "perhaps I should have left you on that tower. And what exactly is the difference between us and your fellow Grey Warden, hm?"

It felt like Flemeth had just stabbed Veira in the stomach. Everything she had been taught made her reject the idea of being branded 'apostate,' but...there was truth in her words, wasn't there?

"That's... completely different! She's a Grey Warden!" Alistair shouted loudly, "but other point taken."

Morrigan cut the argument short. "Allow me to get my things, if you please."

As they waited, Veira desperately wanted to change the subject. "Are you sure you don't wish to come with us as well? Surely it isn't safe here any longer." It was still surprising that the trees were not aflame.

Flemeth laughed again, particularly at Alistair's grimace at the suggestion. "You needn't worry Warden. Flemeth knows a thing or two about hiding."

"Is that why there are no darkspawn here?" Veira asked carefully, glancing at Alistair. He averted his eyes once again.

"In part," Flemeth said.

"For another, the darkspawn are not fool enough to attempt an ambush on the mighty Flemeth," Morrigan said dryly as she stepped out of the hut once more.

"That sounds more of a reason to have her along," Veira smiled. The young witch did not return that smile.

"Ha!" Flemeth barked, "she exaggerates. Not even I could defeat an entire Blight."

"That is remarkably modest, from you," Morrigan snipped, clearly annoyed. "I am at your disposal Grey Warden. I suggest a small village to the north as our first destination, you'll find much you need there. Or rather, I can be your silent guide. Tis up to you."

"Oh no," Veira waved a hand, "I would rather you speak your mind."

Flemeth chuckled. "You will regret saying that."

"_Dear sweet mother," _Morrigan snarled, "how kind of you to throw me out this way. How _fondly _I'll remember this moment."

It was strange to see a family like this. One that clearly brought each other down with every breath. Veira was sure such families existed, but to see it first hand? Her family had been very loving, for as short and sweet it had been until she was taken away. She wondered what the point of all the nastiness was.

In her thoughts, she lost track of the argument. It was time to leave. "Farewell mother," Morrigan sighed, "do remember the stew. I would hate to return to a burned down hut."

Flemeth glared. "Bah. Tis far more likely that this entire area, along with my hut, will be swallowed up by the Blight."

Morrigan flinched at her mother's tone. "I-I...all I meant was-"

"Yes I know," Flemeth cut her off. "Do try to have fun dear."

Veira and Alistair didn't bother saying goodbye to the old woman. Veira looked back at her for one last look, just as she did before, and again Flemeth had the same eerie smile as they left. Glancing at Morrigan, she wondered what it was like to be raised and live with Flemeth. She had a feeling it was only slightly more free than the Circle.

Morrigan brought several maps along with her, and drew the path they were on. They were headed to a small village called Lothering, and the plan was to buy needed supplies and perhaps figure out a way to get some money. From where they were, it would take a few days to reach Lothering. Morrigan purposely led them towards abandoned houses along the way, where they found things like blankets, extra pieces of clothing for warmth, and when they were lucky, old jars of non-perishable food.

When night fell, they set up camp. The houses they found before were rather worn down, and provided as much cover as the open doors did, so they decided to camp outside. Morrigan said she had camped in this location many times, knowing it was well hidden. Neither Veira nor Alistair sensed any darkspawn nearby, so they managed to settle, though Alistair was...very quiet. Very unlike him.

Veira could empathize with him. She struggled to keep her mind off of what happened. Her shoulder injury was itchy, and every time she touched it brought back those memories of facing her death. As per usual, she decided the best course of action would be to take out a good book and ignore everything else. Reaching into her bag, she skipped the academic books and grabbed the one filled with adventure. Fantasy was best when you wanted to forget about reality, or so she thought. The Adventures of Dario Danar provided as much distraction as a story about a thief risen to hero to save the world from an encroaching evil could in her shoes. After an hour, she sighed and gave up.

She was about to turn in early when Alistair approached her.

"Hey..." Alistair said quietly, "can I talk to you?"

"Anytime," she smiled.

By his expression, she could tell it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. "There's one more part of the Joining that I...we...it hardly matters anymore. But, you still deserve it. Here," he reached into his pocket and held out a necklace. It was blood red. "W-we put some of the blood from the Joining into a pendant for each Warden to keep...we-we were going to give you this after the battle..." His face strained and she could see small tears form in the corner of his eyes. "There was going to be a big feast, y-you know? To celebrate our new sister. The pendant... it's so...so we never forget. Never forget those who didn't make it this far."

With trembling fingers, she gently grasped the necklace with the pendant filled with blood. She closed it in her fist, pressing her hand to her mouth as if to kiss it. She shut her eyes tight, as water threatened to spill from them. The lump in her throat was so large she could barely get her voice out. "Thank you," she said, small sobs behind her voice, "I'll treasure it."

Neither of them slept well that night.


	11. The Little Village to the North

For the first few days, they traveled in almost complete silence.

Alistair needed distance for now. Many times he looked as if he wanted to say something to Veira, to talk about Ostagar or even to talk about nothing in particular. But every time he simply looked away, his shoulders slumping and his face lost. There was nothing she could say to him that would bring him out of his state of mind; he needed time. _Veira _needed time. Which she usually spent at night, cradling the necklace around her neck in her hand.

Morrigan on the other hand was too angry to talk to either of them much. Alistair she ignored completely. It was instructions of where they were headed that was the limit so far of the two mage's relationship. Even so, Morrigan held no authority in the group; that seemingly fell onto Veira. She wasn't too comfortable with the leadership role, but she had no other choice. Perhaps when Alistair was less withdrawn, as the senior Grey Warden he could take the reins. She hoped anyway.

It was a difficult thing. Sure, she was with two people constantly, but still it was lonely. Many times she retreated to her own thoughts, but honestly she would rather stay away from those as much as possible. The word 'apostate' consistently assaulted her every time she thought she could forget about it. She couldn't deny she had readily accepted the term briefly back at the Circle when Jowan begged her to come with him and Lily. But at that moment, she was assured she wouldn't be alone, she'd have a family to be with. The idea of accepting the term now made her feel sick.

It was something she wanted to talk to Morrigan about, but had no idea how to approach such a topic. 'What was it like, living as an apostate all your life?' seemed a ridiculous question, and knowing Morrigan, she'd berate the Circle mage and not give an answer. So she was stuck with her own thoughts and assumptions.

Later that day, they came across a small abandoned farm. They did their usual search of usable things for travel, coming up with nothing. The people who once lived there did a good job of taking everything with them. Unluckily for them, there were no produce left over in the small fields close to the house; they had long since rotted in their vines. Empty handed, they left to move on.

Then a dog emerged from the road.

It ran wildly over to Veira, barking madly in alarm. It was a mabari, quite like the one she helped back in Ostagar, although she wasn't sure if it was the same one. Perhaps some mabari managed to survive, and ran to get away. The fact that the dog seemed to be warning them about something was very concerning. Then Veira felt a dreaded familiar tug in her mind. Darkspawn were nearby.

She quickly drew her staff and warned her companions, though Alistair was already prepared, and from the look on his face, livid. The mabari growled at the ground ahead of them, knowing what would happen next. The dirt exploded, bits of rock and chucks of grass rained down over them. The darkspawn burst through like giant earthworms, ready to kill whoever crossed their path.

Alistair bellowed a rage filled cry, and Veira soon realized why. The darkspawn were adorned with armour she recognized; armour that many of the soldiers from Ostagar wore, but twisted and reshaped into horrible versions of the usual uniform. Just as Alistair, hot anger boiled in her stomach. She concentrated her mana in fury, intending to rip apart these monsters limb from limb.

The mabari did not waste anytime, snarling at the darkspawn and charging one down. Alistair followed the dog's example. In his rage he ran a warrior through, tossing the corpse towards another darkspawn to throw it off. Veira blasted away at the darkspawn with furious arcane spells and lightning, so much that she didn't notice a darkspawn mage casting a spell until it was too late. She was being slowly crushed by an arcane cage, obviously a favourite spell amongst the darkspawn. Yet this time, it was much stronger than the last.

Veira cried out in pain, concentrating her mana to combat it. But the harder she resisted, the harder the darkspawn concentrated on squeezing her to death. When Alistair noticed his friend in peril, he let out an angry roar, charging to skewer the legitimate monster mage. But he was intercepted by the leader of this group of darkspawn, the tallest and most menacing one of all of them.

Morrigan finished off the darkspawn she was killing with a cold spell, and Veira, even in her distress, could hear the click of her tongue in annoyance at what was happening. Veira saw Morrigan stride over to the carnage and turn into a giant spider.

Her mind went blank. This was a bad idea, because it broke her concentration of fighting against the spell currently crushing her. She heard a rib pop and tears welled in her eyes, as she opened her mouth to scream but nothing could come out of her. She lost what little breath she had, and no matter how much she gasped she couldn't get a single bit of air in her lungs. She was slowly being raised into the air as she was being crushed.

But just as suddenly as she couldn't breath, she felt the spell that held her disappear, and she fell onto her knees with a yelp. Coughing profusely, she managed to look up, and watched the giant spider that was Morrigan maul the mage darkspawn until it no longer moved. Just as quick, she changed back to her human form, powering up a lightning spell that bounced off every enemy after hitting them. Soon, the rest of the darkspawn had smoke flowering off their faces, and with Morrigan and Alistair's combined skills, they took down the leader. Alistair cleaved its head off, and as it hit the ground he kicked it as hard as he could. It bounced off the fence that was nearby with a sickening thud.

"How mature," Morrigan scoffed. Alistair could only respond with a curt 'shut up.'

The mabari rushed to Veira's side, immediately sniffing her and licking her face. Despite the situation and how much pain she was in, she blinked and let out a childish laugh, having never felt the tongue of a dog on her cheek before. He barked with glee and wagged his tail. The other two snapped out of their argument, remembering their comrade was injured.

Alistair rushed over. "Are you okay? I-I suppose you are since you're... laughing."

"I've never been licked by a dog before," she smiled happily, scratching behind the mabari's ears. The dog did indeed look exactly like the one she met before, now he was close up. "I think this is the mabari I helped back at Ostagar."

Alistair smiled faintly. The first smile on his face for days. "He must have been looking for you. He's...chosen you. Mabari are like that."

"You mean he's...imprinted on me?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "I was under the impression that it was difficult."

He nodded. "It usually is. But...I suppose after what happened...he's just attached to you."

She smiled warmly at the dog. "I see. It's just...it's too bad I don't know his name."

"The best part about imprinting a mabari on someone new is that the dog accepts a new name from that owner. Besides having a full bred mabari, obviously. You can name him whatever you like."

"Amazing," she breathed, fascinated. "Well now, what would suit you, I wonder?" He barked and wagged his tail. Let's see...he was strong, intelligent. Extraordinarily loyal, and heroic in his own dog-like way, fighting darkspawn without a second thought. She smiled to herself. She had the perfect name. "Dario. I'll name you Dario. Do you like it?"

Dario gave an approving bark, and rolled on his back playfully. The name was accepted.

"Does this mean we're going to have this mangy beast following us around? Wonderful," Morrigan said, her lip curling.

"He's not mangy!" Alistair cooed.

Dario crouched beside Veira, who was still on the ground. Using him as a support, she slowly got to her feet, feeling still a bit wobbly. When Dario whined, she smiled and shook her head. "I'm fine, really. We have to keep moving."

Travel was much less lonely with Dario around. Alistair retreated back into himself as they continued, and Morrigan was still not in the mood for pleasant chats. But the new member of the team was bubbling with energy, ecstatic that he was no longer by himself and not sick. He obviously favoured Veira's attention, who was more than happy to give him it. She spent most of the next fews days tossing a stick for him, even when her arm began to ache. It was the most fun she ever had in a very long time.

When they set up camp that night, Morrigan let them know they were very close to Lothering, about one more days journey. That should have put Veira at ease, but in fact it did the opposite. She hoped that the dress she wore and her overall look would be enough to hide her mage-ness. Her staff was her biggest worry, but it did look like a very large tree branch; there were no gems or anything like that adorned on it; but full of the usual enchantments or course. She could probably play it for a walking stick still.

Morrigan on the other hand, did nothing to hide it. Her strange attire screamed 'witch of the wilds,' and Veira was sure she wouldn't have it any other way. And there was no convincing her otherwise. Though if they ran into an angry mob, Morrigan could turn into a giant spider and scare them away, she supposed.

She sat beside the witch, who was far away from the fire. "Morrigan, may I ask you something?" It was worth a shot.

Morrigan sighed, regarding the Circle mage with mild contempt. "If you must."

Veira raised her eyebrows. She wasn't expecting it to be that easy. "Ah, well, that shapeshifting ability. How did you learn such a thing? I've never heard of such magic!"

Morrigan scoffed. "Of course _you _haven't. Your Circle hates any magic that isn't Chantry approved."

Veira gave an awkward laugh. "Yes, I-I suppose that's true."

Morrigan studied her with a hardened eye. "If you're really that curious...I learned by Flemeth's teachings of course. I did so by studying the animals I wished to become. I carefully watched the way they moved, how they responded to the Wilds around them. In time, I could mimic them entirely. Flemeth taught me how to abandon my human form. "

Veira leaned in closer, fascinated. "Could you change your appearance now? To look like a different human?"

She shook her head. "No. To shape-shift is to become something you are not. I already know everything there is to be a human, therefore I cannot learn a new human form."

The Veira that liked to learn new things shone through, happily drinking up the new information. "And do animals know what you really are, or do they accept you?"

A small smile twitched on the corners of her mouth. "They do not run away. They do regard me, and acknowledge my existence. Sometimes, they do treat me as if I were their own. But they cannot tell what I really am."

"That's amazing," Veira gushed, "truly! Is it possible for any mage to learn it?"

Morrigan raised her eyebrows. "You're really asking that? A mage from the Circle? I never would have guessed." She brushed a bang from her eye. "Truthfully, no, not every mage can. Not only you must study the Wild, you must _become _it. Know every secret, every crevice." She stared into Veira's eyes. "Know the feeling of grass between your toes, and understand what it means. And those are the basics, 'tis even more difficult to learn about the beasts that inhabit it."

Veira understood where she was going. Someone who lived so devoid of wilderness, like a Circle mage, would never understand the complexities of the forests and animals that populate them. She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. "So it's impossible for Circle mages."

"Not entirely impossible," Morrigan sighed, "but close enough. T'would most likely take a lifetime to accomplish. For I, it was almost second nature. And I would daresay mother is the greatest shapeshifter this world has ever seen."

This was an opportunity to ask her a question that had been nagging Veira for a while now. "Flemeth...is she really what she seems?"

"That depends. What does she seem to be?"

Veira hesitated, but decided to go through with it anyway. "A creepy old woman."

The laughter from Morrigan was so loud it woke Alistair. It took several minutes for her to regain her composure. "Oh, she _is _old. Have no doubt of that." She wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye. "Tell me, what do you know of the legend of Flemeth, told by the Chasind folk and sung by the bards?"

Veira shrugged. "Just the basics, I suppose. That she has lived for centuries because of a deal with a demon, and was part of a war with Cormac. I assume the rumours of her devouring children are not true, I hope?"

Morrigan chuckled. "For as long I've known her, she hasn't eaten any children. But before that...I cannot say." She smiled smugly at the elf from the look on her face. "As the tale goes, there was a time when Flemeth was young and beautiful, a fair lass in a land of barbarian men."

"Hmm," Veira hummed, grinning to herself, "and how long ago was this exactly?"

"Many centuries," Morrigan smiled, extending the word 'many', "before this country was named Ferelden. T'was said that she and the bard Osen were lovers, and fled the castle of the dread lord Conobar, Flemeth's husband, and that he swore vengeance against her for her infidelity. Mother told me that t'was in reverse. In fact, t'was Osen who was her husband, and Conobar the jealous lord. Conobar made a deal with Osen, to turn over his pretty wife in exchange for wealth beyond his wildest dreams. And Osen agreed."

Veira was disgusted. "He sold his wife for riches?"

Morrigan shrugged slightly. "Life of a bard is a poor one. And t'was Flemeth who suggested the deal. But Conobar was a terrible man, who commanded for Osen to be hunted down after the deal had been completed. Conobar neither had the coin or means to grant what he promised. Flemeth spoke to the spirits, and learned of the betrayal, and she swore revenge."

Veira blinked. The tale she heard made clear she spoke to a demon, not a spirit. "Did she really speak to the spirits, or were they demons?"

"Spirits first. Flemeth did not seek the demon until...later. She was chased by Conobar's allies to the Wilds, and t'was there she met the demon. T'was he who made her strong."

So the deal with the demon was true...Veira felt a shiver run down her spine. Morrigan continued, "the tales then talk about the war hero Cormac, who defeated Flemeth and her armies in a grand battle. All lies."

"Really? I though that was what she was most infamous for."

Morrigan snorted. "The truth of the matter is that mother never met anyone named Cormac, and certainly was never defeated by him. She never even raised an army with the Chasind. Cormac was a terrible king who led a brutal civil war with his own people, claiming he was fighting a root of evil amongst the lords. My mother was added after, to make him the hero instead of the villain."

"I see..." Veira pondered, wondering if she believed any of this. "Isn't there also tales about many daughters she has raised? Have you ever met any of them?"

"No," Morrigan said curtly, "I know not of these supposed daughters. Flemeth has told me nothing of them, and I have not met a one."

"Do you believe in what Flemeth told you?" Veira asked carefully.

Morrigan paused. "I do not believe everything Flemeth says. But in this case...yes, there are many parts in her version that make sense."

Veira nodded, smiling at the young witch. "Thank you for telling me."

Morrigan closed her eyes and tilted her head, smiling. "Flemeth tells it much better than I." She studied Veira's face again, a question on the edge of her tongue. "Dare I ask of your own mother? Not many are abominations of legend, so I admit, I am curious."

Veira's eyes widened slightly. It had been a very long time that someone asked her about her mother specifically. "Ah...there isn't much to say, really. She died when I was two. I don't remember much about her. Except..."

Morrigan actually leaned in. "Except?"

Veira stared at her hands, smiling warmly. "All I remember of her is her fingers. I remember grabbing her delicate fingers when I wanted attention, and she'd always curl them around my tiny hand. I always liked that, for whatever reason."

The witch looked away, hiding her face. "I-I see. You have my sympathy, for what it's worth. Which is very little, I imagine."

Veira immediately felt terrible. What was she doing, telling Morrigan all that when her mother probably never showed affection for her own daughter. She wasn't sure if it was true, but by the way she saw them talk, and Morrigan's reaction...it was like she knew it was the truth. "Morr-" she began, but Morrigan gave her a glare that said 'I don't want your apology.' Out of respect, Veira said nothing, just nodded to her and heading to her sleeping area.

Before turning in, she eyed the grass around her. She realized she had not yet touched grass without her shoes on. Taking them off, she stepped into the pillowy greenery, her eyes widening on how soft it was. The blades tickled her toes, and she could have wept right then that she forgot what it felt like.

* * *

That night marked her first darkspawn nightmare.

It was a scene of a feast; darkspawn eating their conquests either alive or dead. The dream liked to linger on the gore, the teeth and noises coming from the mouths of these monsters. And at the end of it, there was a close-up of one darkspawn's face, covered in blood and muscle, that turned to stare at her. She knew she wasn't there, not physically, but it was looking at her. And it was saying 'You're next.'

She awoke with a start. She lay there in the morning light, sweating bullets and eyes wide. Her heart was beating too fast. Trembling, she slowly raised her torso, hugging her knees. She was the first one awake, which was a relief to the terrified elf. She covered her mouth as her stomach heaved, and she ran to the nearest bush, where she vomited only bile and remnants of dried meat; last night's dinner. Not the way to start a morning.

She stood there for a long time, leaning against a tree. Were these dreams a part of being a Grey Warden? Her heart sank at the thought. Would she be able to take them, for the rest of her life? Or would she be eventually driven insane slowly every night?

It was something to discuss with Alistair, once he got better.

She jumped when she felt a soft nose poking her on the hip. Dario whined at her loudly. She smiled faintly, patting him on the head. "Good morning." He barked happily, which prompted Alistair to open his eyes. Soon after, Morrigan slunk back from wherever she slept that night. They had run out of food yesterday, so they skipped breakfast and packed as quickly as they could. Veira said nothing about her nightmare.

Just as Morrigan said, Lothering was not too far. From the distance, Veira could only tell that it wasn't nearly as large as Redcliff, but still had a charm to it. Though that charm evaporated when they were approached by some not-so-friendly men waiting on the bridge.

The leader sneered at the sight of them, and along with his cronies swaggered toward them, blocking the way. "Lookie here boys. Newbies to say hello to! Lead by an elf, of all things." the leader sniggered at Veira, but then bowed his head in mock courtesy. "Greetings travellers! What a fine day it is, wouldn't you say? To enter this lovely village is a modest price, only ten silver and you'll be on your way!"

"Highwaymen," Alistair said, disgusted, "preying on those fleeing the darkspawn."

"They are fools to get in our way," Morrigan said, "I say, teach them a lesson."

One of the highwaymen tugged on his leader's sleeve. "Uhh, they don't seem like merchants."

The leader grinned. "Everyone has to pay the toll. That's why it's called a toll, and not say, a merchant tax."

"Ohh, right," the highwayman said, "even if you're no merchant, you still gotta pay!"

The leader tilted his head at Veira. "Even cripples, I'm afraid. We do not discriminate!"

Veira blinked, but let it go. If people were going to assume that instead of being a mage, she'll take it. Regardless, there was no way she was going to give any money to these goons. "Forget it," she said curtly, "we are not paying."

The leader sighed. "Well, I can't say I'm happy to hear that. Guess we'll have to get our money the traditional way."

"Right!" the other highwayman said cheerfully, "we get to ransack your corpse!"

Veira's eye twitched. She raised her staff and brought it down harshly on the stone. Lighting shot out from the tip of her staff, cracking angrily around the mage. "Try it," she warned calmly.

The highwaymen all changed their superior attitude to that of either fear or fear mixed with a healthy dose of mortality enlightenment. Some tried to flee, but Dario grabbed him by the arm and pined him to the ground. Others that ran were intercepted by a good bash to the head by Alistair, and pity the man who was stopped by Morrigan. He stood no chance.

"C-cowards!" the leader yelled at his men, "they bleed the same as us! All of you, attack her now!"

To say the battle was over quickly was an understatement. When they were down, Veira offered them mercy by letting them join the army, but they proved not to be interested in mercy. When it was all said and done, Veira realized this was the first time she killed a person. She just shook her head sadly, wishing they had backed down instead, but that's not what happened. She had a feeling they would run into more situations like this. But she was a Grey Warden, and had to be strong. They looted the bodies and found coin they had stolen from their victims. At the very least, she'd be able to do something helpful with the money.

Just as they were ready to enter the village, Veira saw something that made her heart go into her throat.

There was a Templar heading their way.


	12. The Qunari and the Sister

Veira clutched her staff firmly in her hand, leaning against it like a crutch. She didn't like the idea of portraying herself as a cripple, but in those moments where the Templar drew closer and closer to her vicinity, the less her conscience spoke up. It seemed the Templar gaze was something she'd never escape from, no matter where she went. The question was whether she'd be able to fool them with every encounter. It was very unlikely.

"Ho there," the Templar called, "I overheard some shouting, what- Maker!" He surveyed the corpses littered around them that had been blocked by the highwaymen's cart. "Did _you_ three do all this?"

Veira didn't answer. There was too much stress and fear to get any words out. Thankfully, Alistair jumped in. "Y-yes, ser, w- _I_ did. They attacked us for our money."

"Maker's mercy," the Templar sighed. "We've been looking for someone to deal with this lot for some time. They were the reason many good folk here were afraid to leave."

"Oh!" Alistair smiled nervously, "I'm glad that we could help."

"I'm sure you didn't know this, but there is a reward for the deed," the Templar continued, "go to the Chanter's board and someone there will be able to help you and your...companions." His gaze fell on the nervous Circle mage, and she quickly averted her eyes. "May I ask why you are here?"

"W-we're just fleeing the darkspawn," Alistair said quickly, "and we hoped to buy supplies here and move on. To...Denerim."

The Templar nodded. "You and every other traveler to come our way..." he sighed. "I'm afraid there isn't much here for you. There's no food to sell, barely anything of value is for sale. We've rationed what we can. I would advise you to move on soon."

"Right, we'll do that thanks."

The Templar's shoulders slumped. "My next job is to get _this_ cleaned up, I suppose." From the sound of his voice, the man was clearly exhausted. Too exhausted to fully investigate the two mages, thank the Maker. The three and Dario quickly made their way into the village, where Veira finally could breathe.

"That was close," she sighed.

"Hmpf," Morrigan scoffed, "you Circle mages are too easily frightened."

"Yes, yes, we get it. You are the best mage ever in existence, all should bow down before you, blah blah," Alistair ranted with hand gestures, "but hey look! Lothering! Pretty as a picture, isn't it?"

"_Well_," Morrigan sneered, "look who finally decided to join us! Falling on your blade in grief too much effort?"

He shot the witch a hate filled glare. "Is my being upset so hard to understand? What would you do if you lost _your _mother?"

Morrigan cackled. "Before or after I stopped laughing?"

"Riiight, very creepy."

"You have been very quiet, Alistair." Veira pointed out, worried.

"T'was a nice change," Morrigan said.

Alistair was about to retort, but he cut himself off, sighing. "Sorry, I was just...thinking." Morrigan made a sarcastic, surprised gasp, but Alistair ignored it. "_Anyway_, now is the time to plan. We need to figure out where we're going. Those treaties, have you looked at them?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "We have treaties for the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi. I also still think Arl Eamon is our best bet. We might even go to him first."

She considered the idea, and it was a smart one. But something about that order made her nervous. "Morrigan, what do you think?"

The witch raised her eyebrows, surprised that she was even being consulted. "I say we go to Denerim. Confront the man who betrayed you directly, and get him out of the way."

"Right, because it isn't like he still has _all his men _to protect him, right?" Alistair said, rolling his eyes.

"She asked for my opinion, so _I gave it. _I don't need approval from a fool."

"Enough," Veira said, exasperated at the constant fighting. "Both of your plans have merit. Arl Eamon was eager to join us before, but the king refused his help. But...the longer we let Loghain run amok, the more damage he'll do to our cause..." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "But...I have this worry. About the Dalish. I really doubt they will stay in Ferelden long. They are the closest to the horde, are they not?"

Alistair nodded. "They'd be in the Brecillian forest somewhere...so. Yes."

"The Dalish are always on the move, and if we don't find them right away...that's a good portion of our army that we'll lose. I think we should find them first, if possible." Veira looked at her companions nervously. "Unless...you two object, that is..."

Alistair hesitated. "I still think that Arl Eamon is better...but. You're way smarter than me. I won't object."

Morrigan laughed at Alistair. "Well, at least he admits it. Do as you wish."

Veira smiled at the two, feeling good that they now had a plan. Now the question was whether they would be able to get any needed supplies. As they drew deeper into the village, an air of despair and hopelessness became thicker and thicker. All the villagers were fearing for their lives, knowing that the horde was coming. News of Ostagar must have already assaulted their ears.

They reached the outside of the village's Chantry, a modest building compared to the Redcliff Chantry, but it was still a much fancier place than the rest of the village. A priest was reciting the Chant of Light, and stood beside a wooden board that upon inspection had three jobs listed. A Chanter's Board. They told the priest their deed regarding the highwaymen, and he gave them an entire sovereign while saying a verse from the Chant. Veira had all but memorized the Chant of Light, as it had been recited every day back at the Circle, so it wasn't exactly uplifting to hear it now.

"We should do the rest of these jobs," Veira said, pocketing the sovereign.

Morrigan clicked her tongue. "For what purpose? We are not here to solve every problem."

"But we _need _money," the elf insisted, "this coin won't last very long."

Aw, c'mon. It'll be _fun." _Alistair teased.

Morrigan just _harrumphed _and folded her arms, seeing Veira's side, but still not liking it. There were three jobs on the board, all of some importance. Bandits were using the situation to their advantage by pillaging and stealing from the fearful and desperate. A mother had gone missing, and if anyone found a clue to her whereabouts would be rewarded. And an influx of aggressive animals needed to be taken care of before they could continue to hurt people. If they completed these jobs, they would have a good amount of money that would go a long way. Regardless, they headed towards the inn first, thinking that they would be able to find something of use there. They ran across a terrified elven family who felt trapped because of the highwaymen, and the little boy who lost his mother. Veira was quick to help them, and they were all legitimately surprised that she did. The Blights were not always about killing darkspawn, were they?

Of course, they immediately ran into trouble once they entered the inn.

Several soldiers were sitting at a table, stopping their conversation short when the group closed the door behind them. By their armour and the fact they were still alive and well meant they were Loghain's men. And they recognized her.

"Isn't...isn't that the elven Grey Warden that everyone said they hadn't seen?" one of them asked.

They all rose from their seats. "It seems we were lied to."

"Right," another said, as they rest reached for their swords, "let's make this quick."

Veira didn't have time to think. Several soldiers lunged towards her, and anything protecting her identity had to be thrown out the window before she was skewered. The villagers all screamed and fled to the back, even more so when she and Morrigan began casting spells. Alistair found trouble when he was ganged up on, one of them managed to knock him off his feet with a lucky shot. Veira tried to help him, but the soldiers after her blocked the way. The spell she used before on the darkspawn that rendered them immobile was too risky; the villagers were too close in proximity and she couldn't let them be involved in the fight. And how would she explain attacking cowering villagers, even if it was not her intent?

The soldiers loomed over Alistair, readying their swords to finish him off. Veira feared this was the end for him, but help came from a most peculiar source. Red hair, petite frame wearing Chantry clothing, and a dagger masterfully slashing the sword out of the soldier's hand that was about to kill Alistair. The soldier cried out in pain, but he had little time to do anything else. The woman stood before him, smiled brightly, then round-house kicked him in the face.

The rest of the soldiers, not to mention the entire inn, were struck dumbfounded by the fighting Sister. Luckily Veira snapped out of it before them, and managed to incapacitate the soldiers that were after her with ease. After almost all the soldiers fell one by one, many by the hand of the Sister, a man that was presumably the leader of this particular group raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright, we surrender!"

"Good," the Sister said, smiling. She had a thick Orlesian accent that almost made her voice sing. She set her pretty blue eyes on Veira. "They have stopped the fight. There is no need for more bloodshed."

She nodded carefully, looking behind the soldiers towards the terrified villagers. This time, perhaps the offenders will accept mercy. "Take a message to Loghain."

"W-what do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him the Wardens know what he really did." No doubt the general downplayed the betrayal part.

"I-I'll tell him! Thank you!"

They were gone in a mere few seconds. By the time they reached Loghain they would be long gone from here. The Sister continued to smile sweetly at them, approving letting them go. She bowed slightly before speaking again. "Thank you for showing them mercy. I am Leliana, Lay Sister here in Lothering."

Veira couldn't help but grin at her, for the alliteration. "I believe we are the one's who owe thanks."

She giggled. "It was no trouble! Those men said you are Grey Wardens, yes? I was happy to help," she tilted her head, her smile not wavering. "You will need all the help you can get to stop the Blight. That's why I'm coming along!"

Veira paused. "Um, sorry?"

"You cannot be serious, Sister!" a villager pleaded desperately. "The...The Grey Wardens _killed _the king at Ostagar! And...and look, they harbour apostates! Surely you are joking!"

Veira and Alistair blanched. Loghain was claiming...that the _Wardens _killed the king? That was the most outrageous lie he could have spouted from his traitorous mouth, and worst of all, people seemed to _believe_ him. She glanced worryingly at Alistair, who had gone white-faced and clenched his jaw so hard that he could have bitten through steel. That wound cut deep for both of them.

"My good lady," Leliana soothed, kneeling before the woman who had spoken, "I assure you that is a misunderstanding. The Wardens would never turn on their allies. What happened at Ostagar...was a tragedy, and the only ones responsible are the darkspawn. And I have made my choice with my eyes open." She stood up slowly, facing the rest of the villagers. "I assure you all, these heros before you would defend you until the very last of their breaths, and in the eyes of the Maker, it would not matter what they are, or where they came from, as they are righteous and true."

Morrigan made an angry noise through her nose, but amazingly, Leliana's words calmed the villagers down. There were still desperate whispers amongst them, mostly directed at Morrigan and Veira, but they seemed to trust the word of the Sister regardless. They returned to what they were doing before the soldiers attacked, more or less, many of them leaving the inn entirely. That was twice now that Leliana had helped them.

"If I may," Veira inquired, "why do you want to join us so badly? There are many good things you can do _here."_

"Because the Maker told me to." She said it without a hint of hesitation.

Another pause, longer this time. "...come again?"

Leliana blushed, looking down. "I...I know that sounds crazy, but it's true!" She looked back up, truth reflected in her eyes. "I had a dream, a vision!"

"More crazy?" Alistair asked, "I thought we were filled up."

"Please," Leliana pleaded, "look at these people. They are frightened for their lives, and don't know what to do. The Maker doesn't want this. I will do _anything_ to stop the Blight, and I know I can help. Please, give me a chance."

Even if Veira did not believe the Maker told this woman to come with them, her words about the Blight were sincere. And Grey Wardens, especially now, couldn't be picky about allies. Beside that, Leliana had already proven to be very skilled. Honestly, it wouldn't make much sense not to bring her along, especially since she's so willing.

"Alright," Veira nodded, "I will not turn help away when it presents itself. Welcome, Leliana."

The Sister beamed with delight. "Oh, thank you very much! I will not let you down, I swear it!"

"Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than mother thought..." Morrigan muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

There were brief introductions before they bothered the innkeeper for supplies. Cheerful Leliana was quite the opposite of the hanging feeling of despair, anger, and sadness the rest of the group had, but it was a welcome change. Morrigan was the only one who didn't agree. Like the Templar said, the innkeeper didn't have any food to sell, which was a shame because everyone except for Leliana were starving. Though he did carry a few necessities; like old cooking supplies and when asked, and a few small canvas tents that didn't have too many holes in them.

As they left the inn, they realized the villagers were now watching them closer. Whispers rippled through the air as they stepped into the open, bringing Veira's nerves right back. Something told her if they stayed too much longer they would regret it. It was dangerous for them to stay here, not only for their own sakes, but the villagers too.

"Let's do those jobs quickly," Veira said firmly, "then leave as soon as possible."

Alistair nodded, his mouth tightening. "Agreed."

"Pardon me Warden," Leliana said suddenly, causing the elf to jump, "there's something I need to ask you..."

"Er, yes?"

"This task ahead of you...of us. You need more companions, no?" She looked to the ground, her face hard to read. "There is someone else here in Lothering that could join us. And since you want to leave soon..."

Veira raised her eyebrows. "Really? Who?"

The Sister's eyes hardened. "It's better if you meet him face to face. Come, this way."

They followed her with apprehension, wondering what exactly put Leliana on edge. Though the question was pretty much answered when they approached a large cage sitting at the edge of the village.

A giant, burly man sat inside, his legs crossed and head lowered as he spoke gently in a foreign tongue. His ears were pointed, but he was not an elf, and therefore he was not a dwarf or human. Ashen skinned and white hair, her eyes widened as a thought crossed her mind. If he wasn't elven, dwarva or human, the man had to be a Qunari; the people from across the sea and at constant war with the Tevinter Imperium. What was a Qunari doing here in Ferelden?

The Qunari looked up at her, glaring at her stare. "You aren't one of my captors," he said in a deep voice. "Leave elf. I have nothing to say that will entertain you." He shut his eyes again.

Veira shot a questioning look at Leliana. The redhead still looked deadly serious. "The Chantry put him in this cage," she said after hesitating, "because he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children."

Horrified, Veira looked back at the murderer. He opened his eyes slowly, though he avoided eye contact. "It is as she says," he said calmly. "Though it matters little now. I will die soon enough."

"You don't deny it?" Veira asked, her hands shaking.

The Qunari's face tightened. "What would that accomplish? Denial is weakness. Only the strong face what they have done."

She was taken aback from that answer, for its honesty. Not what she would expect from a cold-blooded killer. "Leliana..." she began, gritting her teeth slightly, "why do you want him to join us, exactly?"

The redhead folded her arms, frowning. "He is being left here to starve to death, or to be devoured by the darkspawn. No one deserves that, not even a murderer."

Surprisingly, Morrigan spoke up. "This is a proud and powerful creature," she gestured to the Qunari, "if you do not see a use for him, I would suggest letting him go for mercy's sake alone."

"Mercy?" Alistiar said, incredulous. "Wouldn't have expected that from _you_."

She shot him a glare. "And I would also suggest Alistair take his place in the cage."

"Ah, now _that _I expected."

Instead of listening to those two argue, Veira stared carefully into the Qunari's eyes. She recalled something that Duncan had told her. The Wardens took in anyone, regardless if they are a killer, a thief, or criminal. Anyone with the ability and the will to fight. She knew what Duncan would do in this situation.

"If you have not already gathered," she said firmly, "I am looking for people to join us. I need as many allies as I can to fight the Blight."

"The Blight?" The Qunari's brow flickered at the word. "...are you a Grey Warden then?"

"Yes, I am."

"Strange," he replied, "my people have heard the stories of the fabled Grey Wardens. Not all legends are true, I suppose."

Her eyes narrowed at the slight, though she had to admit there wasn't much about her that screamed 'legendary.' "If I let you out of your prison, will you help us?"

"I doubt the Revered Mother will let me go."

"But if you are, you _will _help?" She had to get confirmation from his own mouth.

He stared at her for a good few seconds, his eyes hard as rock. "Yes."

She nodded, that was enough for her. She wondered if Duncan would be proud of her.

Now the issue of confronting the Revered Mother. Even though she had lived with Chantry priestesses all her life, she still found it difficult to talk to them, and it would be hard enough normally to convince someone to release a known murderer.

"Leliana, I'll need you to talk to the Revered Mother for me," Veira said to her along the way to the Chantry.

She smiled a confident grin. "Of course. Though I don't think you need to worry, she's a dear woman. She'll understand."

_Not when the request comes from a cursed mage, _the elf thought, but kept to herself. Speaking of mages, she turned to Morrigan. "It also might be for the best if you didn't come with us," she said to the witch, "less attention from the Templars the better."

Morrigan frowned. "Trying to rid of me so soon?"

Veira raised her eyebrows. "You _want _to enter the Chantry?"

"Hm. Point. Very well, I shall wait out here. Try not to take too long; these villagers seem to be on the brink of rioting for food."

"Don't worry," Veira said kindly, "I'll keep Dario with you. He'll protect you!"

Dario barked happily and ran to the witch's side, tail wagging madly. Her nose flared as her eyes narrowed at the dog. "Oh, _wonderful."_

Getting into the Chantry was much easier than Veira expected. The Templars that guarded the entrance luckily knew Leliana quite well, and welcomed them with no fuss. The Chantry was packed with people, many of them on bended knee in prayer, as a sermon was being recited. Despair was etched in the faces of every villager, and her heart ached at the sight of the small children losing hope. If only she had the power to...

"Alistair?" a man asked, unfamiliar to her.

Alistair blinked, but his eyes widened once he recognized who had spoken to him. "Ser Donall?"

"Maker's Breath, it is you!" Ser Donall's face brightened, "I thought you died at Ostagar!"

"I very nearly did, no thanks to Loghain."

"Someone you know, Alistair?" Veira asked, tipping her head at Ser Donall, who returned it with a courteous bow.

Alistair nodded, grinning. "Yeah, I know him from Redcliff. He's a knight from there."

"Hello, my lady," Ser Donall smiled. "Are you a Grey Warden as well?"

Veira blushed slightly. That was the first time anyone had called her 'my lady,' and not in a joking manner. "Er, yes. I am."

"I am sorry for what happened at Ostagar. What was this about Loghain?"

Alistair informed his friend with quick details about what happened. The poor man's face wilted at Loghain's betrayal, and how he is now trying to frame them for the deed. "Mercy. What is going on in the world? First Arl Eamon falling ill, and now this. It is madness."

Alistair's eyes widened in horror. "F-falling ill? What do you mean?"

Ser Donall looked at him worriedly. "The arl fell into a comatose state barely a week ago. Nothing so far has been able to cure him, including magic. I...I've been sent to look into the Urn of Sacred Ashes, Andraste's holy remains preserved." He grimaced at the incredulous looks on both the Wardens. "Legend says that it is here in Ferelden, and possesses great healing power."

"But it's just a legend," Veira whispered, hoping that no one was listening to this.

"We have...run out of options. Nothing has worked. And if chasing this legend will save our arl, then we'll do it." Ser Donall sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Though the longer I am away, the less hopeful I become."

"So you've been checking Chantry archives to find some clues?" Veira asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Though so far my search has been fruitless. I'll be heading to Denerim next, the Chantry there is the most extensive in Ferelden, not to mention the scholar looking into the Urn lives there."

"I see..." Veira sighed, pressing her thumb to her mouth in thought. This was very bad. Arl Eamon was the only one that wouldn't need convincing to join their efforts. Looking for the Dalish first was even more of a risk now.

Ser Donall sighed again. "I can see that you are busy. I myself must move on, if I want to get to Denerim soon. Maker watch over you, friends."

Alistair shook his friend's hand before he left, the smile on the ex-Templar's face straining as the door closed. Sensing that his distress might be deeper than she thought, Veira took his hand, pulling him gently. "Come on, we still have to talk to the Revered Mother. We can speak later, okay?"

"Yeah..." he mumbled, the hand she held trembling slightly, "okay. Sounds good."

* * *

"Your companion has a mouth of her own Leliana. If she has a request, let it be from hers."

"But-" the Sister began, before the Revered Mother put up a dismissive hand.

"I shall not be coerced by having you be used as leverage," the Revered Mother said firmly, then turned to Veira. "Speak, dear woman."

"I er-," the elf stuttered, freezing up. The Revered Mother was headstrong and stubborn, much like the priests back in the Circle. Veira was sure they had positive influence over normal people, and she was sure they tried, but that was not the case in her own experience. It was just the same old subjugation. She wondered if that part of her would ever go away.

"You're a mage, aren't you?"

Veira almost jumped out of her skin, her heart beating as quick as a frightened rabbit. "H-how do you know?"

The Revered Mother chuckled. "Who else gets that nervous around priests?" She sat down on a seat, her eyes patient. "Ah, child. You do not need to fear me. Leliana said you were a Grey Warden. You are lucky to have been chosen, to see the world."

Veira raised an eyebrow. "That's a...different opinion coming from someone from the Chantry."

"Perhaps. The Chantry cannot claim perfection in its ways. Only the Maker can. Now," she tilted her head, "what was your request?"

What she would have given for this woman to be in the Circle when she was younger...

"I...it is about the Qunari you imprisoned outside."

The gentle patience in the priests' eyes disappeared. "I have done all I can in that regard. I can only leave his fate to the Maker."

"I was hoping you would release him, as we-"

"Then the families of his next victims might mark both you and I as their murderers," she interrupted, shaking her head.

Veira held her ground. "Is there any way to convince you into releasing him into my custody? I will make sure that does not happen."

The Revered Mother shot Leliana an apprehensive look. "And you agree to this, Leliana?"

"These are...unusual times, your Reverence," Leliana said slowly, "with us, the Qunari can do some good. I am sure of it in fact!"

The elder woman sighed, rubbing her forehead. "If things weren't so dire..." she muttered. "Very well. I shall trust you both on this. Take these keys to his cage, and Maker watch over you."

Leliana took the keys brightly, beaming at her. "Thank you, your Reverence. Your trust is not misplaced."

They left the Chantry hurriedly. Veira's heart was still beating fast from the encounter.

"That went rather well, didn't it?" Leliana said jovially, smiling at the keys in her hand.

"Arrgh," the disheveled mage groaned, covering her eyes with clenched fists.

"Hm? What?"

"Let's just go," Alistair urged.

Morrigan was waiting by the cage with her arms folded across her chest impatiently. The Qunari still sat with his eyes closed, though they opened as soon as they gathered around.

"You return," he said dully, "is there something more you want of me?"

"I have the key to your cage."

His eyes widened. For the first time, he stood, and he was taller than anyone Veira had ever met. Talking to him would be...interesting from now on. In more ways than one. "I must confess...I did not think the priest would part with it so easily."

_It wasn't easy on me, _Veira thought to herself. "She agreed to release you into my custody."

He nodded once. "So be it. Release me, and I shall help you defeat the Blight."

She unlocked the cage, opening the door. The Qunari stepped out, slowly, as if soaking up every moment as he left his prison. Although it was unfair, watching him reminded her of when she first stepped out of the Tower, drinking in the image if the lake reflecting the night sky. He tilted his head back, looking into the sun and closing his eyes at the brightness. "So it is done," he said peacefully, taking a few moments. Then he looked back at her, his stoney expression returning. "I will follow you into battle. In doing so, I shall find my atonement."

Atonement? A warm smile crept up on the tiny elf, despite the circumstances. "What is your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Sten," the Qunari said. "I am Sten."


End file.
